


As We Go On (Life Happens)

by kensington_queen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Auror Draco Malfoy, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Draco Malfoy & Ginny Weasley Friendship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Malfoy and Weasley marriage, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23974318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kensington_queen/pseuds/kensington_queen
Summary: The Golden Trio were supposed to take only a year to hunt down all the horcruxes. But Voldemort was clever, and hid them well. Four long years later, they return to find an expanded Weasley family, and much to Harry's shock, a very married Ginny.This is the story of what happened in the four years they missed.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 52
Kudos: 151





	1. Prologue, Of Sorts

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Merlin. One minute I'm writing the chapter update to Black Rainbow, the next a song comes up on shuffle that sent my mind into overdrive. I guess I am going to be a crazy person and have two work-in-progress stories happening at the same time! 
> 
> This story will be jumping back and forth in the timeline. I will always make it very clear whether the narrative is in the past, or in the character's present time.

At half past two in the morning, three distinct pops at the apparition point outside of the Burrow broke the stillness of the Devon countryside. 

Three exhausted and dirtied young adults, no longer teenagers but on the newer side of their twenties took in the site of a place where many happy memories resided. The ganglier of the trio, whose natural red hair had been charmed to blend in with the night sky, took a hesitant step forward towards his childhood home. In the darkness of the night, no lights shoned out from the windows, not even the customary candle that sat on the kitchen window sill to signal members of the Order.

“Careful, Ron,” the lone female of the group cautiously whispered. She gently touched his arm to hold him back, as their companion took out his wand, muttering a ward detector spell. “Well Harry? Is it safe?”

“There’s no wards set up.” Harry replied in a surprised tone, sharply looking back at his friends. “Nothing at all.” 

Ron frowned at this new information,

“I’m going to investigate,” he said, charging forward. 

“It could be a trap…” Hermione warned, but it fell on deaf ears. Ron was already halfway through the yard, rapidly approaching the front door. Harry looked at her, sighing. He took out his invisibility cloak, covering them so they could follow. If it was a trap, at least they could have a somewhat element of surprise. 

They nearly barreled right into Ron, who stood shell shocked just inside the kitchen.

“It’s… empty.” He moved further into the house, observing the lack of worn out furniture from his youth and the knickknacks that had cluttered every available space. “Mum’s clock isn’t here either.”

“I’ll check upstairs,” Hermione said, hiding the panic threatening to well up. Where were the Weasley family? There was no sign of foul play upstairs, just more hollow rooms devoid of any sign that a large family had once lived there. Hermione ran back down in the living room where she found Harry pacing frantically. Ron stood near a window, staring out into the night.

“Nothing upstairs, not even a lingering smell of the twin’s experiments,” Hermione informed them. She wrangled her hands together. “What are we going to do? We came to warn them about the impending attack on Hogwarts.”

“We go to Hogwarts.” Harry said, stopping his pacing and looking at her. “McGonagall is still there keeping watch over Snape and those Death Eater professors. We need to get the last horcrux there too. If we can find a way to her…” he trailed off, noticing the look of trepidation on Ron’s face. 

Hermione saw it too. 

“She could probably tell us where your parents are, Ron.” 

Ron ran a hand through his hair, looking as though he was about to say something. However, a pair of pops outside in the garden alarmed them of unexpected company. Quickly the trio huddled together under Harry’s cloak, moving as one to a corner of the room. Harry sucked in his breath, adrenaline rushing through his blood. They all clutched their wands, ready. 

“... I could have sworn it got triggered….” a familiar, posh voice drifted in from the kitchen. “Maybe a bloody squirrel again.” The trio’s eyes widened. They knew that voice unfortunately well. It had been four years since they had seen him, but that certainly belonged to one Draco Malfoy. 

The former Slytherin stepped into the dark living room, carefully inspecting it with his wand drawn. His blonde hair was a bit longer than the coif style he sported in the last couple of years at school, and he seemed to have lost the lankiness of his thin frame. His face seemed a shade rounder too, but his body still moved like the seeker he once was, gracefully and airily. 

“Let me check upstairs,” another voice said, astonishing the trio further. Bill Weasley came into view, frowning deeply. “The ward for that went off too.” 

Draco nodded, watching as Bill climbed the stairs. He circled the room slowly, expertly stepping over floorboards that were particularly noisy from years of foot traffic. He looked utterly comfortable in the Weasley's living room, Harry thought, as if it was perfectly normal for him to be at the Burrow.

Harry debated whether or not to reveal themselves. Was Bill under the Imperious? The eldest Weasley brother seemed perfectly clear headed, but Harry knew the Death Eaters could be especially skilled at hiding the effects of such a curse. He grimaced, bad memories surfacing to his mind. Behind him, Hermione was thinking similarly. She clutched Ron’s hand, a sign to him to not make rash decisions. 

“All clear upstairs,” they heard Bill’s voice from the top of the staircase. He came down quickly, wand out for light. “I redid the ward. I think you were right about the squirrel.”

“It feels off in here.” Draco said, his gaze sweeping past where the trio hid. “We should leave before unwanted visitors really do show up.”

Bill agreed. “Fleur might be awake with the baby. Maybe if we’re lucky she’ll have some coffee brewing for us at headquarters.”  


“Your dad will be up soon for the next watch shift. We should tell him about this, even if it’s a false alarm.” Draco said, doing one last look of the room before following Bill back out to the kitchen. 

The trio creeped behind the unusual duo at a distance, straining to hear the conversation. Harry stored away the valuable information they had just learned; Bill was okay, and from the sounds of it Mr. Weasley was alive and at the Order’s headquarters, wherever that was nowadays. 12 Grimmauld Place had been compromised the year after they had left suddenly for their journey through Britain, chasing horcrux after horcrux. They had learned about it via Potterwatch. The new location remained a mystery. Chances to reach out to the Weasley family and the Order were rare. The last time they had successfully sent a message to them was a year and a half ago, much to their frustration. It was always the trio sending messages, never the other way around. No one knew their location until they were long gone, and Potterwatch reported it.

“.... Snape says.” Harry strained to hear Draco’s voice outside the closed door.

“If only….” Bill replied, but the rest of his words were hard to hear as they moved away from the house. A short moment later, complete silence fell again surrounding the Burrow. The trio waited a few minutes before slowly removing the cloak.

“It _is_ protected by wards.” Hermione scrunched her nose in confusion. “But you checked Harry!”

“Yeah,” he said, looking terribly confused. “I did. They must have a different sort set up now.”

“Sod the wards!” Ron bursted out, outraged. “Did you not see that Death Eater git?! Malfoy’s got my brother under some sort of curse!”

Hermione and Harry exchanged glances. 

“Are we sure about that? Bill looked rather clear headed to me.” Harry twisted his lips in thought. “They were talking about your dad, and Fleur. Rather odd topic of conversation if he had Bill under the Imperious.”

“Bill mentioned a baby. Ron, you’re an uncle!. Isn’t that exciting?” Hermione looped her hands around the red head’s arm, allowing herself to be distracted by the idea of joy in time of darkness.

Ron didn’t look convinced. 

“Yeah... We should get going. We need to find Ravenclaw’s diadem at Hogwarts.” He changed the subject back to the pressing matter at hand.

“He’s right. We need to go. The attack is due soon too.” Harry sighed. “I hope we can meet your new niece or nephew when this is all over for good.” The unspoken _if they survived_ was understood by his companions in that statement. They could all very well die in the next forty-eight hours. Then again, they had had several close calls the last four years together. Possible death was always around the corner.

Harry’s mind drifted to Ginny then. She often appeared in his dreams, the only positive thing he could look forward to each night. Well, when nightmares of Voldemort didn't take over. He was anxious to see her. The past four years had simultaneously dragged on and raced by. Harry hoped she would forgive him for leaving her. He hadn’t planned for this mission - to locate all the horcruxes - to take this long. It was supposed to have been a year tops.

Harry sighed again, shaking off the forlorn feeling. He needed to concentrate. 

“Right, let’s get back to the apparition spot. We know now this is warded and either Malfoy or someone else will appear again.”

Swiftly, covered once again by the invisibility cloak, the trio exited the house. The distinct popping sound of apparition took them away from the emptied Burrow, leaving it completely abandoned once again. 

\+ 

At the Order’s headquarters, located in the heart of the North York Moors, two women were wide awake and waiting for their husbands in the kitchen. A fresh pot of coffee brewed at the countertop, tea cakes waiting on plates beside it. 

“It iz late,” Fleur anxiously looked at the mantle clock resting on the old beam above the kitchen’s fireplace. It was now five past three in the morning. Bill and Draco hadn’t yet returned from investigating the Burrow. The alarms had gone off earlier, alerting Fleur as she had bottle fed a sleepy ten month old Victoire. On nights that Bill was scheduled to keep watch, she often stayed awake to keep him company. 

“They’ll be back soon,” the other young woman sitting at the table reassured her sister-in-law. Fleur watched as Ginny twisted the diamond and ruby ring adorning her left hand; despite her words, she was just as anxious.

“I hope so. I am zo tired from feeding little Victoire. She doesn’t sleep well when Bill does night watch.” Four year of living in England had softened Fleur’s heavy French accent. Only the occasional words were still clipped just so. Ginny smiled sympathetically.

“I know. It gets easier though -”

_knock knock knock pause knock knock_

The safety knock of the Order banged suddenly from off to the side of the kitchen, interrupting Ginny.

She caught Fleur’s eye, nodding sharply and drawing out her wand from her robes.Ginny rose from her seat, walking cautiously towards the door in the utility room. 

_knock knock pause knock knock knock_

She tapped on the door, waiting for the reply.

_knock knock pause knock_

Ginny opened the door, revealing her brother as the knocker. Draco stood behind him, keeping an eye on the garden. 

“Hi,” Ginny stepped aside to let them inside. Bill nodded at his little sister as he went straight for the pot of coffee. Draco followed, firmly shutting the door and reinstating the wards. When the final click of the locks sounded, he allowed a hug from Ginny and a chaste kiss before beelining for the coffee as well. 

The exhausted pair joined their wives at the table with fresh mugs in hand. 

“Nothing at the Burrow,” Draco sipped his coffee, grateful for the warmth and energy it provided. “Bloody squirrels again.”

“Zat is good right?” Fleur covered a yawn with her hand. 

“We’ll tell Dad anyways. He should be aware.” Bill gulped down the rest of his coffee, stretching. “He goes on duty in a half hour with Lupin.”

“I’m going to bed then,” Fleur stood up, pressing a kiss on her husband’s forehead before bidding Draco and Ginny goodnight.

“I’ll go to the office, wait for Dad there.” Bill too got up, placing his mug in the sink to be washed up later. He disappeared through the same door as Fleur, out towards the front hallway.

Ginny watched her husband as he munched on the tea cake in front of him - strawberry, his favorite - and smiled, albeit rather sleepily. 

“Do you really think it was the squirrels again?” She asked, leaning forward on her hand. Merlin, she was so tired but she appreciated the quiet time with Draco, even if it was at an absurd hour. 

“I think so, though the room did seem a bit disturbed. The dust was different.” Draco shrugged, closing his eyes and taking a slow sip of the coffee. “It certainly wasn’t Death Eaters though.”

Ginny let her eyes wander down to her husband’s arms. Covered by the sleeves of his robes the mark permanently rested on his skin. 

“Has it been hurting recently?” 

“No,” Draco’s eyes remained firmly shut. “Not at all. I think Snape finally got the mixture right.”

Relief flooded through Ginny. The mark had been an issue for so long, since his seventh year. She briefly closed her own eyes, remembering that strange year. When she opened them, gray eyes were looking back at her. She smiled softly.

“You should get some sleep,” Draco touched her cheek gently. His eyes flitted over towards the clock. “You’re going to need it in about two hours.”

“Hopefully three.” 

Draco smirked, shaking his head. 

“I don’t think we’ll be that lucky.”

“You mean I won’t be lucky. You’ll be asleep.” Ginny shook her head, getting up to go back to their rooms upstairs. She leaned down and gave him a kiss. “Walk me to the stairs?”

Draco followed her out to the front hallway, where the grand stairs swept up on either side of the foyer. The Order had been using this long forgotten Malfoy property for two years now, but the whole grandness of it still took her by surprise sometimes. 

The Farmhouse, a country estate whose records were long ago destroyed, was anything but a quaint little farm as the name suggested. It was only when Lucius had died that Draco had suggested it for use. Though a loyal supporter of Voldemort, the late Malfoy patriarch hadn’t revealed all the properties at the Malfoy family’s disposal to his dark lord. 

_Self-preservation is hard to shake,_ Draco had explained. _Even my father was aware enough to have a backup plan._

The Farmhouse was perfect for the Order’s headquarters. It had the benefit of being off record, so no one knew of its existence. The location too couldn’t be beat. It was nestled in the heartland of the York Moors, hidden from Muggles at the base of a hilltop that was always mysteriously covered in mist. Trespassers would find themselves lost if they got too close, compelled to turn around and forget about the area. 

Since it had been a country retreat, similar to Malfoy Manor, the house benefited from extensive gardens. It was built from the famous Yorkshire stone that dotted the landscape in the area, three stories tall with an enormous cellar that housed centuries old wine barrels and half broken antiques. Members of the Order practiced down there, since it stretched the whole of the house. Ginny was relieved that there was no dungeon here.

Draco had told her that a few of his Malfoy ancestors had liked to pretend to be farmers during the summer months. As such the property was very much a working farm with livestock and extended apple orchards. This proved to be helpful in ensuring there was always food for those who lived at The Farmhouse permanently during this prolonged second war against Voldemort. 

The entire Weasley family lived here now, after a series of attacks on the Burrow a year ago. Mrs. Weasley had stubbornly held out, not wanting to abandon the family home in case Ron returned with Harry and Hermione. Eventually they convinced her, promising to set up wards for protection and to alert them if anyone showed up at the property. The furniture was in storage up in the attic, and personal pictures scattered around the large house for comfort. Mrs. Weasley’s family clock lived now in the main reception room, though the hands never changed from mortal peril. 

“Goodnight,” Ginny started up the stairs for the master suite. They had offered it to her parents, but since this was technically their personal house, the offer had been kindly refused. The elder couple slept instead in one of the smaller guest rooms, which could hardly be referred to as _little_ ; it was still bigger than the Burrow’s kitchen and living room together. 

“Night, love.” Draco watched his wife head up for a moment before entering the office. A study really, with bookshelves filled with titles such as _Magickal Herbs and the Curses They Cast_ and _Muggle Farming: What They Got Right_. He found his oldest brother-in-law stretched out on the chaise by the fireplace, eyes closed but still alert. 

“Have you told her yet?” Bill asked, knowing the answer.

“Did you tell your wife?” Draco tiredly shot back, sinking into the leather chair beside him.

“No. For the same reason you didn’t.” Blue eyes opened up, casting a pointed look at Draco. 

“She’ll find out tomorrow. No harm in giving her a couple hours of rest.”

Bill nodded, closing his eyes again. 

“Fair.”

The brother-in-laws fell into silence, listening to the crackle of the fire that one of the house elves made sure was always burning. So much activity took place in this room, so much planning and trying to stay on par with Voldemort. Draco sighed. He was ready for Potter and his pals to show up, sooner than later and be the heroes they needed.  
He feared they would show up too late now.

“Morning,” a voice at the study’s doorway yawned. Arthur Weasley shuffled in, a mug in his hand. He took a seat at the desk, opening up a random file to glance over. Draco knew his father-in-law was trying to keep his mind distracted from the long day ahead. 

“Morning sir,” Draco greeted back, ignoring the look of displeasure that briefly appeared on the older man’s face. He always insisted on addressing Mr. Weasley as such, not feeling quite comfortable using his given name.

Remus Lupin entered the room then, his face the normal exhausted look. The full moon had been a week ago; his energy levels were only just leveling out from the Wolfsbane Potion. 

Bill informed them of the alarm trip, and of the latest update brought by Professor Snape. The current headmaster of Hogwarts still served as a spy for the Order, toeing a dangerous line. After Lucius Malfoy’s death and Draco’s betrayal, the Death Eaters took time to regroup. Voldemort withdrew the Carrows from Hogwarts for Ginny’s last year, instead sending in former Slytherins who were on his side but not yet official Death Eaters. 

Pansy Parkinson, Draco’s one time girlfriend, taught there as the Muggle Studies professor. Her father had secured the position in Pansy’s favor, hoping to put some space between his only child and Voldemort. It was not quite the fate Draco had envisioned for her, but Pansy apparently was flourishing as a teacher. According to Snape, she often purposely forgot that she was supposed to be like the Carrows. 

_She is kinder than they were, but she plays favorites with the Slytherins,_ Snape said once, and that had been all Draco really knew of her life as part of the teaching staff at Hogwarts. He supposed it was a better fate than other Death Eater offspring. When the upcoming battle happened at Hogwarts, she would be able to flee with the youngest students, avoiding the bloodshed and maintaining enough innocence to avoid prison time if the Order somehow miraculously won without Potter. 

“Snape says that Voldemort is planning an attack on the school sooner than we thought. Could be in the next twenty-four hours.” Bill said, frowning. He was sitting up now on the chaise.

“I still don’t understand why he’s attacking it. It’s already in his control.” Mr. Weasley sighed, frustrated. “Four years…. Why now?”

“He’s trying to lure Potter back,” Draco looked at his father-in-law. “It’s a big warning to the wizarding world. If Potter doesn’t show and defend Hogwarts, well…” He let them think on his words. Lupin was nodding. “I also personally think they’re close now, destroying those horcruxes. Voldemort must sense that.”

The horcruxes were something the Order only chanced upon knowing thanks to Lucius’s death. Draco had watched his father being tortured by Voldemort for another failure in the dining room of Malfoy Manor. This time the curses had fatally injured the once proud Malfoy, seeping into his bones to the point that death was welcomed.

Voldemort left his loyal supporter crumpled up on the floor in a pool of blood, clucking his tongue in disappointment at such a display of weakness. He’d left Draco alone with his father, not as a mercy to have closure but to show the younger Malfoy what he was capable of….

Draco shuddered at the rush of memories.

“Twenty-four hours…” Mr. Weasley was muttering. He looked up at his son and son-in-law. “Get some sleep. If this is true, you’re going to need the rest.” 

Draco bid them goodnight, following Bill up the staircase. They parted ways at the top; Bill went towards the left, Draco to the right. The hallway was lit with oil lamps, guiding his way to the master suite at the end of the wing. He stepped into the sitting room, greeted by complete silence. He opened one door, glancing in before shutting it quietly. He went instead inside a door on the opposite wall. 

The master bedroom was cloaked in complete darkness; the curtains were drawn against the moonlight outside. Ginny was fast asleep in bed, snuggled in the middle of it. Draco chuckled softly, undressing into his boxers and hopping in beside her. Instantly she moved closer, her whole body taking up most of the space. He pulled her to him, breathing in deeply and willing his body to relax for sleep.

It came slowly for him, but soon enough his eyes shut firmly, surrendering to sleep.

+

_”Draco!_ " A voice shook him awake frantically. Hadn’t he only just fallen asleep a minute ago? Draco frowned his sleep. Maybe it would go away if he pretended not to hear it. _"DRACO! Wake up, it’s happening!_ "

Reluctantly, Draco opened his eyes. Standing above him in the sunlight pouring in from the windows - Ginny must have opened them when she woke up - and dressed, was George Weasley of all people. His usual cheerful face was grim. Draco threw off his blankets, not caring that his brother-in-law would see him half naked. The clock in the room told him it was eight in the morning. Four and a half hours of sleep protested against the sudden movement. 

“Tell me,” Draco ordered, reaching for clothes that would be an advantage during the showdown between the Order and Voldemort’s army of Death Eaters.

“Five minutes ago McGonagall sent word that Harry showed up with Hermione and Ron. They’re alive -” George left the unspoken _for now_ out “ - they’re searching for something in the castle, I dunno. Voldemort caught wind of it and is now at this moment in the Forbidden Forest.”

Draco finished getting dressed, dashing into the master suite bathroom to splash water on his face and brush his teeth. If he was going to potentially die today, he would do so with fresh breath. 

“Ginny is downstairs with Fleur and the children, insisting to come.”

Ah, that answered another question Draco had been about to ask. 

“She agreed,” Draco stepped out of the bathroom, ready now. He frowned.

George shrugged. “She’s Ginny. We always knew she’d insist.”

They went out into the sitting room, where Draco popped on his shoes, before heading out into the main part of the house. Downstairs they found chaos. Fleur was with all the children that lived in headquarters; she was staying behind with her sister Gabrielle to watch over them with another Order member. Ginny was _supposed_ to be staying behind too. Instead she was in the foyer with the rest of the Order, listening to the plans one last time. She caught his eye, determination blazing in her eyes. He held her gaze, nodding. Draco had always known that despite their plan she would be going.

From her spot against the staircase banister, Ginny watched her husband spin on his feet back towards another wing of the house. Not surprised, and knowing he would return shortly, she turned back to pay attention to Kingsley Shacklebolt. Sure enough, Draco appeared before the end of the final overview, taking his spot beside her. He wore the insignia of the Order, a phoenix, pinned to his shirt. His sleeves were rolled down, hiding his mark.

Ginny wondered if the trio knew of Draco’s allegiance to the Order. She worried they might mistake him for the enemy still. As though reading her mind, Draco squeezed her hand. She squeezed back. The past four years had prepared them for this moment. They would stand united.

Everyone taking part in the fight at Hogwarts began leaving out the front door towards the apparition zone, disappearing with a pop in the cool early morning air. It promised to be a beautiful day. 

“I love you,” Ginny took a long moment to hug Draco.

“I love you too,” he replied, kissing her forehead softly. They pulled apart, savoring this last moment of peace together. Silently they both spun on their heels, to Hogwarts. 

A calm breeze swayed the flowers where they had just stood. The sunshine warmed the grass. The Farmhouse remained blissfully unaware of the scene unfolding a few hours north, where the blood of the first victims already washed the ancient stone floors of the school.


	2. The Farmhouse's Mistress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “.... Mistress Malfoy is throwing a memorial for the Order?” Hermione looked at Ron, confused. It confirmed her original guess, that this was a Malfoy property. But she hadn’t expected that Narcissa Malfoy had abandoned her husband’s cause for the Order.
> 
> “Well of course, Miss.” The elf looked at her funny. “Please follow me, we must hurry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a big chapter. I'm still not sure if I am happy with it, but I'm ready to find out about Ginny and Draco's past. Might tweak this chapter at a later date. Please note this is being posted at 3 am British time. I am posting as is, so any spelling mistakes, grammar issues, etc will be caught when I look it over when I'm more alert, promise!
> 
> Oh, and Voldemort's dialogue comes from the Deathly Hallows Pt 2. There's an iconic line as well by another character that is entirely JK Rowling. You'll know it when you see it.  
> Enjoy xx

The air was thick with smoke and the sickly sweet smell of blood. Bodies were scattered around Hogwarts, casualties of both sides. Draco swore as a curse nearly hit him as he crouched behind a blown out wall on the outer edge of the castle. The adrenaline coursing through his body urged him from the spot; he ran, weaving in and out of debris in the covered walkway he was trying to leave. It had been a bit too long for his liking since he saw any other member of the Order. Draco headed for the Entrance Hall where he knew backup awaited. 

A manic laugh chased him from behind as he dodged an ominous streak of green light.

“Come out to play little nephew!” Bellatrix taunted, relentlessly maneuvering her wand with impressive skill. Draco spun quickly around a pillar and threw a curse back, a Malfoy family speciality that liked to make the victim freeze with a burning sensation. He barely missed her, the stream of blue extending out of his wand and hitting the wall beside her. Rocks shattered, raining down on his aunt. She effortlessly threw up a shield, protecting herself. 

Bellatrix laughed again, spinning her wand in her fingertips gracefully. 

“Trying daddy’s old tricks, little nephew?” She danced out of the way of the curse again. “Pity he can’t be here to kill you himself, _TRAITOR!_ ”

“Fuck -” Draco dived behind a statue, the killing curse hitting the spot he’d seconds ago stood. He panted hard, clutching his wand. Exhaustion was beginning to hit. The adrenaline fought it off; Draco knew that if he dared to pause for a single moment his aunt would very well strike him dead. The battle had been going on for hours now; the sun was high above in the sky casting brilliant light into the grounds of Hogwarts. This proved to be a burden; the sunlight blinded everyone in its path, creating chaos as the wizard and witches attempted to duel the correct enemy.

Draco’s thoughts drifted briefly to Ginny; the last he had seen of his wife was in the Great Hall with her mother, tending the wounded and blocking Death Eaters from entering the space the Order claimed. Earlier in the battle she had fought beside him. When the first wave of victims increased in number, Ginny had decided she might be of best use aiding the medical staff in healing those with minor injuries, so that the Medi-Witches and Wizards could focus on the more life threatening ones. 

“CRUCIO!” Bellatrix shrieked, inching closer to his current hiding spot. Draco braced himself to counter attack, but the air changed at that moment. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up, sending a chill down his spine.

 _You have fought valiantly.. But in vain…._ A hiss whispered, slowly caressing the ears of all on the ground fighting. Draco shivered at the stillness in the air; Bellatrix paused in her pursuit to kill him. He took advantage of the moment, inching along the wall until he could turn a corner and sprint down the corridor back towards the Great Hall. Voldemort’s voice filled every inch, demanding the attention of all. There was no escaping it.

Draco blocked him out as best possible, ignoring the words threatening total death for all who opposed him. Cracks filled the air as Death Eaters retreated back to their master awaiting them in the Forbidden Forest. They had one hour, Voldemort warned, until the slaughter would resume if they did not yield. 

At the Entrance Hall, Neville Longbottom and Oliver Wood appeared as Draco reached the doors to the Great Hall. They carried between them the body of Colin Creevy, his wife’s school friend and a member of the Order’s reserve team. Draco helped the pair bring their fallen friend into the Great Hall, laying him beside the others spread out on the floor. He looked around the makeshift hospital area, spotting a badly injured Lavender Brown being tended to by Madam Pomfrey; a few people down a boy in tattered Slytherin school robes bite his lip as a Medi-wizard healed his broken hand.

Several students it appeared had snuck in after the earlier evacuation. Draco was pleasantly surprised that a few of them belonged to his former house; he wondered briefly if any of them had had to face their own family in the battle. He sincerely hoped not.

“Draco!” A blur of red filled his vision. Ginny threw her arms around Draco’s wasit, tightly hugging him close. 

A quick check over showed that except for a few bruises on her arms, his wife physically seemed okay. Her hazel eyes looked back at him with a dazed expression, gingerly touching a nasty gash on his arm. 

“It looks worse than it actually is,” Draco reassured her, letting her guide him to a bench to have it looked at. “My aunt managed to graze me.” A medi-witch bustled over, quickly applying healing salve to prevent it from infecting before moving on to a more urgent patient. 

“Fred’s gone,” Ginny whispered, staring at the scene in front of them. Draco followed her eyes to the Weasley family, huddled around the body of Fred. George sat next to his twin, crying. Draco bit his lip; the twins had been some of the first of the family to accept him. He never admitted it to them, but in their school days together the pranks the twins pulled used to impress him. Regret washed over as he realized that he never told Fred that.

“Creevy is gone too,” Draco told her, stroking her hand.

“I know. I saw Dennis go down protecting a student.” Tears started to fall freely from Ginny’s cheek. “The student made it.”

“Dennis died too?” Draco hadn’t known that the other Creevey brother was even at the battle.

Ginny looked at him, eyes wide after his words registered. 

“Too? You mean Colin -” She whipped her head over to the bodies, spotting the eternal youthful Colin laying near his brother, eyes closed. Fiercely she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Their death won’t be in vain.” 

Ginny stood up, pulling Draco with her. Together they walked to her family - his family too, a fact that sometimes surprised him, even now - and joined the mourning. Bill clasped his hand over Draco’s shoulder, sharing a moment of sadness before Mrs. Weasley spotted her daughter and son-in-law. 

Draco took a spot beside Mr. Weasley, sitting down and closing his eyes. Rest would not come anytime soon even though his body was begging for it. Harry had gone to Voldemort, Bill told them, to make a stand alone. No one was sure if he would succeed. 

Nearby, Ron and Hermione sat with arms around each other in silence, holding hands. The pair didn’t seem to notice that Draco Malfoy was amongst the Weasley clan. He knew it would be a matter of time before they realized it, but perhaps the aftershock of the battle would distract them enough to not ask questions. The group sat in silence, lost in their thoughts. 

A haunting hiss filled the castle again, triumphantly declaring that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was dead. 

+

Voldemort swept into the courtyard, his group of Death Eater trailing behind him victoriously. Bellatrix was smiling widely as if this were her coronation and she was a queen. Draco supposed in his aunt’s deluded mind that she, _the most loyal_ , was fit for the role to serve Voldemort in that capacity.

Beside him, Ginny clutched her wand, a wave of emotions threatening to explode inside her. Hagrid lumbered into view, a limp Harry in his arms. She bit back a cry at seeing him. Ron started towards the Death Eaters, but Mr. Weasley held him back, even as tears spilled down his own rudy cheeks. 

Everything was so quiet. No one dared move. 

“Harry Potter is dead! Your last hope is gone… See it with your eyes. Surrender now and perhaps mercy could be granted….” 

Ginny shivered as red eyes looked at her directly. She stared back. Voldemort already took so much away from her today. She would desperately fight for the future to the very end. 

Sudden movement from the crowd to the side caused her to break her gaze from the monster commanding attention in the middle of the courtyard. Neville yelled, the sword of Gryffindor in his hands. It all happened so fast; one moment Voldemort was boastful and victorious, the next the battle commenced.

Ginny felt Draco at her back, dueling with his aunt once again. They fought together, driving Bellatrix back towards the edge of the courtyard. Professors McGonagall and Slughorn with Kingsley Shacklebolt were going head to head with Voldemort, and her brothers were united against Augustus Rookwood, cornering him and eventually successfully knocking him unconscious. 

A streak of green narrowly missed Ginny’s head; Draco’s heart skunk at the near hit, tugging her out of the way of Bellatrix’s stream of killing curses.

“NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!” Mrs. Weasley screamed, seemingly coming out of nowhere. Bellatrix laughed tauntingly, throwing curses as fast the insults that came through her blood red lips. Draco and Ginny watched in awe as Mrs. Weasley effortlessly dueled Voldemort's most loyal follower, dodging curses and waving her wand in complicated patterns. 

Draco had no idea his mother-in-law was so capable with a wand. 

One of Mrs. Weasley’s defensive spells hit Bellatrix square in the chest, stealing another laugh out of the woman. Bellatrix attempted to send the killing curse but she was too slow; Mrs. Weasley threw a powerful counterattack that knocked Bellatrix in the chest again. Draco watched as his aunt fell to the ground, dead. A raging scream pierced the air. Voldemort’s face was twisted with hatred, his wand ready to kill Mrs. Weasley.

But his attention became diverted with Harry emerging, very much alive, from the crowd. Voldemort promptly began dueling with him instead; everyone watched with bated breath. Ginny held tightly to Draco’s hand; he briefly wondered what was going on in her head as she watched her ex boyfriend face down Voldemort. 

She squeezed his hand, rubbing her thumb over his. _I’m yours,_ it said. Somehow, Ginny always seemed to be able to read his mind. 

And then, it was all over.

Harry won.

+

“I think I just want a sandwich,” Harry said to Kreacher, ready to collapse on his old bed upstairs in Gryffindor’s boys dormitory. The house elf nodded, disappearing from view. Harry sighed deeply, exhaustion overwhelming his body. He looked over at Ron and Hermione; they were beside Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, sitting by Fred’s body. Ginny sat there too, her head resting on her mum’s shoulder. 

There was plenty of time to talk to her later, he decided. Four years stood between them, but Harry was confident that a few cups of tea with Mrs. Weasley’s scones could start them back on the same path again. Another afternoon apart couldn’t hurt at this point, he reasoned.

Harry exited the Great Hall, missing Draco standing just a bit to the left of Ginny, deep in conversation with Bill Weasley and looking every other minute at Ginny with love in his stormy eyes.

+

“Harry? Wake up,” Hermione shook the sleeping wizarding hero awake. She was alone, Ron downstairs with his brothers in the common room.

“Mm?” Harry opened his eyes. A blurry Hermione stood beside the bed. “You’re blurry,” he informed her. 

She rolled her eyes and handed him his glasses on the bedside table.

“I know you’re tired Harry, you certainly deserve sleep. But the Weasleys and myself are leaving to go back to headquarters. We want you to come with us. There will be a lot of food, and Mr. Weasley says that you can have a room to recover in…”

“Alright.” Harry stood up, wincing as his body protested. 

“Excellent, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny already left,” Hermione bit her lip, something flashing in her eyes, but it disappeared quickly. Harry didn’t notice. 

“I’m hoping for a moment with Ginny. Need to talk to her.”

“Harry,” Hermione started. “Remember that it’s been four years.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I need to talk to her. Four years is a long time to not talk to your girlfriend. Well, we technically weren’t together when we had to abruptly leave the wedding, but...”

“Your girlfriend?” Hermione shook her head. “Harry that’s exactly my point, four years is a long time. I’m sure not everything has stayed the same…”

But her friend was only half listening, heading down to the common room. Hermione had an uneasy feeling that he would be disappointed with the outcome of the conversation with Ginny. 

Hermione prided herself on being observational; even after the hours long battle, tiredness did not cloud her skills. She hadn’t missed how Ginny was seemingly closer than normal to Draco Malfoy during Harry’s duel with Voldemort. And Hermione noticed the Phoenix pin on his shirt. Clearly he was part of the Order now, but when or how this happened, Hermione didn’t know. She was sure the answer would be given at the newest headquarters though. 

Whatever the story, Hermione hoped Harry would be okay.

+

The Order of the Phoenix’s headquarters in the North York Moors stood proud in the falling sunlight against a hill covered in apple trees. From the apparition point in the front lawn, Hermione could see miles of countryside views stretching out on either side of the property. Sheep and cows grazed in fields down a dirt path off to the left, a few outbuildings down the way. 

_Farmhouse indeed,_ Hermione thought, though the building in front of them was a far cry from a farmer’s cottage. This was a Georgian era home, strongly reminded Hermione of Jane Austen novels. The Order members had referred to it as The Farmhouse unironically when explaining the location, and she could see why now. Dormer windows on the top floor peeked out of the roof, with shutters open to let in natural light. All the chimneys - Hermione counted at least four that she could see - had smoke billowing out into the sky. 

The trio followed Mr. Weasley up the gravel drive that circled in front of the house. A three tier fountain with a fairy queen stood in the patch of lawn in the middle, surrounded by verbena, malva, and anemone flowers, enchanted to bloom year round. Herbology had never been a strong point for Hermione, not that she would ever admit that out loud, but she could vaguely recall flowers that were traditionally used for protection. She doubted the boys beside her recognized the symbolism, 

No one had mentioned yet how this house fell into the Order’s hands, but Hermione could take a guess. She suspected a former Slytherin had to do with it. 

Unsurprisingly the foyer was just as grand as the outside. Immaculate black and white marble floors shined under a chandelier with tall white candles, the bottom half of the walls original wood paneling with murals of farmers and animals moving on the upper half towards the ceilings. Two red sofas, the sort found in Harrods or the Muggle royal family palaces, were in the center of the foyer for those who wished to sit and admire the murals above their heads. There were two staircases on either side of the room, leading up to the same hallway, with open views looking into the foyer. Another staircase could be seen going up to another level of the house in that hallway further back from the railings, disappearing from view from Hermione’s current spot. Even the ceiling was impressive; it was a dome with clouds and angels painted on, enchanted to seem as if the angels flew and the clouds floated. The night sky of the ceiling was dark, reflecting the time in the day. 

The hallway extended all the way towards the back of the house, but there was a study immediately to the trio’s right, as well as another hallway that went to another wing of the house. Across the foyer on the left were solid oak doors that were firmly shut; Hermione could only imagine what was hidden from view. She briefly wondered if there was a library. 

She scoffed to herself. _Of course there’s a library, a house this stunning probably has one of the best private collections! Who would know where it is?_

A house elf appeared out of thin air in front of them, curtseying. 

Hermione critically looked it over for signs of neglect, but this house elf looked very posh and clean compared to Kreacher. She made a mental note to find time to speak to the house elves before leaving headquarters to inquire about their welfare. 

“Welcome to The Farmhouse,” the little creature squeaked. “I am Lira, head house elf of this estate.”

“Hello, Lira.” Hermione greeted her, dismayed when Ron and Harry didn’t. She glared at them. Sheepishly they said hello too.

“Please follow me, I will show you your rooms in the Blue Wing. Apologies, but upstairs accommodations are already taken.”

They parted ways with the Weasleys, following as Lira led them down the hallway towards the left, where they passed by numerous portraits and priceless statues. Hermione memorized the route through another hallway, this one with wooden floors and floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased the grounds in the back of the house. Finally Lira paused in a hall with a blue runner carpet and tiffany blue walls. 

Several doors were on either side, and she opened the first door next to Ron.

“Miss, your room is here. Your things are inside, but please use anything in the wardrobe. A late breakfast will be served tomorrow. A house elf will come get Miss to guide her to the dining room.”

With that, Hermione bid goodnight and stepped inside the guest room. 

She had stayed in a few nice hotels with her parents before in France and Italy, and the dormitory at Hogwarts couldn’t help but be impressive. This room though was in a league of its own. The carpet beneath her foot was pure white and utterly soft. Hermione kicked off her shoes, aware suddenly of how filthy she was. The walls were a navy blue, with the same windows as the hall dominating the far wall. It was too dark now to see out into the countryside, but Hermione imagined that in the morning light, the views were stunning. 

A four poster bed with blue curtains trimmed with silver waited for her, but Hermione needed a shower to wash off the day before hopping in. She found the bathroom, white and silver themed, and quickly got into the shower. Dried blood and grim mixed with the hot water down the drain. A flowery scent - violets - filled the room as Hermione lathered her hair up and deep washed it for the first time in months. She spent an extra ten minutes just sitting under the jet stream of hot water, allowing herself to notice the aches and bruises for the first time decorating her worn out body.

When she finally got out and dried off, she opened the bathroom door back into the bedroom to find Ron, also freshly showered, stretched out on the bed and waiting for her. Wordlessly, Hermione joined him, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. 

They were fast asleep in minutes.

\+ 

As she suspected, the views out the windows were breathtaking. Hermione looked out as mist covered the hill, the sun peaking through and illuminating the patches of fields. Directly outside there was a rose garden, which Hermione thought might be peaceful to read in.

 _I really must find the library,_ she mused, distracting herself from the vivid images of dead bodies and screams that had filled her dreams during the night, and the growing anxiety of having to plan a trip to Australia to locate her parents.

“Where do you think we are, exactly?” Ron asked from behind, finishing up his morning routine. Mrs. Weasley had brought his old clothes for him, so he was dressed in a pair of jeans that fit loosely around his waist and a sweater Hermione hadn’t seen in years. Her own clothes need to be desperately laundered, so the guest wardrobe had been thoroughly explored upon waking up. She picked a gauzy blue dress robe that reminded her of ocean waves as she moved about. The last time she wore anything similar had been the fateful night of Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and she relished the luxurious feel upon her skin.Whoever owned this home made sure to provide anything their guests could want for; Hermione found matching flats that magically fit her feet perfectly and wore those instead of the dirtied trainers by the door.

“At the Farmhouse,” Hermione teased.

“Yeah, I got the name of this place.” Ron rolled his eyes. “But how did the Order get this place? I mean it’s better than Grimmauld Place, miles better, but I was expecting…”

“Another hole in the wall?” Hermione supplied, shuddering at the memory of the portrait of Mrs. Black screeching slurs. 

“Well, yeah.” Ron fell quiet. Before she could say anything, a knock sounded. Hermione opened the door, revealing a different house elf from the day before.

“Mistress Malfoy requests that Miss and Mister join her in the dining room for breakfast,” the elf bowed, solemn. 

“Mistress Malfoy?” Hermione echoed back, blinking. 

“Yes, Miss. Mrs. Weasley is already there. There is a memorial planned this evening in honor of Mister Fred and the Lupins, and she wishes for you to have some food to get through the day.”

“.... Mistress Malfoy is throwing a memorial for the Order?” Hermione looked at Ron, confused. This tidbit at least confirmed her original guess, that this was a Malfoy property. But she hadn’t expected that _Narcissa Malfoy_ of all people would be in charge of a memorial for a Weasley or her estranged sister's daughter and son-in-law; never mind the fact she would abandon her husband in favor of the Order. Hermione desperately felt out of place in this new normal that the others had had a few years to adjust to. 

“Well of course, Miss.” The house elf looked at her funny. “Please follow me, we must hurry.”

Hermione and Ron followed behind dutifully through the maze of hallways. The dining room turned out to be on the opposite side of the big home, in what the house elf referred to to as the “Great Dining Hall.” It ended up being a green and silver themed room; emerald striped wallpaper covered the walls with tapestries of unicorns and pegasuses on them, the same shade used for the curtains framed by silver detailing. The floors were a dark wood,covered in Oriental rugs. The rectangular dining table easily fit well over thirty people, and a lot of the seats were filled with the red-headed Weasleys and other Order members. 

The house elf took them to seats beside Mrs. Weasley, busy ordering those around her to eat and not paying attention to the food on her own plate.

“You’re too skinny,” Mrs. Weasley said to Ron, stacking pancakes on his plate with fresh strawberries and blueberries. “You too, Hermione.” 

Hermione let Mrs. Weasley fuss over her, suspecting rightly that the elder woman needed to distract herself from the grief of losing Fred. Missing from the table, Hermione noted, were the Malfoys, the hosts of this estate for the Order. She wondered if perhaps Narcissa Malfoy had been first at breakfast and had her fill of the Weasleys for the day. 

At the other end of the table, Ginny sat in a chair next to her father and Fleur, chatting quietly as a couple of babies sat in a playpen nearby. One of them, a small girl barely two years old with blonde pigtails, kept throwing a stuffed dragon into the air, watching intently as it hovered above her before crashing to the floor outside the pen. A small boy with messy brown hair that kept changing colors patiently handed it back each time.

Before she could think more on the little ones and which Weasley they belonged to, Harry came into the room. He spotted Ginny, going straight for the nearest empty chair. 

_Here we go,_ Hermione took a small bite of egg off her plate, keeping an eye on that end of the table for the rest of the meal. But Harry was pulled into conversation with Charlie and Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Ginny left the room before breakfast ended. Mr. Weasley picked up the little blonde hair girl, bouncing her on his knees before Fleur took her and the other children with Gabrielle a few minutes later, leaving the room. 

The day sped by then, filled with an debriefing with Kingsley and other Ministry officials regarding the important missions of the last four years that the trio had embarked on; all the time spent in the spent on the road and camping in the Forest of Dean and the brief stint in the Scottish Highlands, the reasons why it took four years and the Death Eaters they accounted. The trio would have to do several more hours of debriefing before the Ministry could move on, and even then there were the trials for the Death Eaters they would have to attend and testify at, and all the funerals in the upcoming weeks ahead. 

They stopped for the day an hour before the memorial service for Fred, Tonks, Remus, and Severus Snape. The first three had lived in headquarters the last year, and the house elves wanted to pay respects. Hermione did not yet ask about the Malfoys; she didn’t know for sure where Lucius was, having not seen him at Hogwarts or heard him mentioned as one of the Death Eaters arrested following it. Nor did anyone mention Draco, though she spotted him briefly heading upstairs before the briefing. 

The memorial took place in a chapel on the ground floor, with doors opening up to a terrace looking over the gardens. Everyone in the house crowded in, holding candles and bowing their heads in respectful silence. Andromeda Tonks stood near the front, holding her grandson’s hand and stoically keeping it together. The trio hadn’t seen Teddy Lupin since he was born; he looked just like a mini Remus with Tonk’s nose and eyes. His hair changed from vivid pink to a dull brown as the memorial went on. Hermione spotted a well loved wolf stuffed animal in his little hands and almost started to bawl her eyes at the sight.

The memorial concluded, with announcements from Kingsley that another one for all victims would be held once Hogwarts reopened following repairs, and then Lira the head house elf announced that refreshments for those who wished it were being held in a drawing room by “Master and Mistress Malfoy.”

Curious, Hermione followed the crowd to the room, another grand one with Chippendale furniture that the Victoria and Albert Museum could only dream of having as part of their collection. Hermione stood with Ron and Harry off to the side of the room, feeling quite awkward. They were welcomed into the fold once again, but everyone seemed to know each other's lives far better than the trio could know. It was hard to listen to stories exchanged of the last four years, of memories with Fred, Tonks, and Remus they missed out on. 

Even Draco had stories to share, which felt all too strange to the trio’s ears. 

“I still don’t trust him,” Harry said at one point, staring hard as Draco made Mr. Weasley laugh with a story about a time he and Fred got lost in London on an Order mission. “I know he’s part of the Order now, but I don’t get it.”

“I know Harry,” Hermione said, sighing. “But the Weasleys seem to trust him, and the Order too. He’s opened up this house for them to use as headquarters. He fought for us.”  
“Yeah, _but why?_ ” Harry frowned, absentmindedly rubbing his scar. “What’s his motive?”

“I doubt he has a motive -” Hermione began to say, but just then Ginny entered the room. She hadn’t noticed that the youngest Weasley sibling had been missing. Fleur and Gabrielle trailed behind, children now missing. A grandfather clock beside them showed that the time was getting late in the evening; certainly bedtime for the little ones.

“There’s Ginny, I wonder if I can grab her for a quick chat.” Harry pondered, hesitating to move. “Wait, why is she next to Malfoy?” His eyes narrowed slightly. 

_Clink clink clink_

A hush fell over the room as Kingsley tapped a water glass with his wand. He stood at the front of the room, in front of the roaring fireplace. He murmured a spell to make his voice louder, and clearer, and began speaking. 

“I want to take a moment before this night ends to further acknowledge the grief we collectively feel for those we have lost in the courageous fight against evil. Brave souls today joined those who we lost in the first war.” Kingsley paused for a moment. “Brave souls also stand among us now. They are at Hogwarts, at their homes, and at St. Mungo’s, fighting to heal and fighting to survive right now.” 

Hermione watched as Kingsley looked significantly towards Draco. 

“I would also like to thank members of the Order who opened their homes to us for shelter at various times the past few years. Who took a leap of faith for good when their own lives were in danger. This room we are standing in, which has seen many nights of games and laughter during quiet moments, and tears fallen after heartbreaking missions, tonight once again is the backdrop of both those things. Life is fragile, but love is strong and enduring.”

Kingsley smiled, a bright beacon beaming his warm energy towards everyone in the room. 

“Thank you.”

+

Ginny was so tired. 

It had been a week since the battle at Hogwarts. A few members of the Order had returned home for good, after living at the Farmhouse for a year. The Weasleys made no moves to leave, for which Ginny was very glad. The house was certainly big enough for everyone, and in truth she had grown very accustomed to having her family with her. The funeral for Fred took place at the Burrow a few days after the memorial, and then the Lupins took place in the family graveyard of the Farmhouse; Andromeda had requested that they be buried surrounded by the country views where Teddy had fond memories of his parents. They transferred her husband’s body to a plot just a couple feet away from his daughter and son-in-law too, so that he may rest with his loved ones. 

Though several Order members packed up and returned to their homes, Andromeda and Teddy did not leave. The older woman chose to continue staying in the guest suite that the Lupins had lived in; she did not wish to not add more stress to the little boy’s life just yet. 

“You are welcomed here for as long as you wish,” Draco had softly told her the morning of the funeral of his cousin. “Merlin knows we have the space.”

His own mother stayed away from the Farmhouse, living quietly with her small staff of house elves at the cottage across the fields. She came to the funeral for Andromeda’s sake, standing in the crowd towards the back, a black veil hiding her identity. They were still on uneasy terms, not quite ready to make peace and move on. But still, Narcissa showed, and then disappeared as the funeral concluded. 

The young Malfoy couple also attended Severus Snape’s funeral, buried in a family plot in East Sussex, and the same day they went to the Creevey brothers’ funeral in Essex. Draco had never gone to a Muggle funeral before. He was surprised to see that many of the customs were actually shared, a fact that was not even taught in Muggle Studies.

The week flew by, a haze of tears and prayers and eulogies. By the time it concluded, both Ginny and Draco were grateful to put their black clothing away for a while. 

Ginny was thankful too that her family prevented any awkward alone time with Harry. There were so many meals and time spent in the sun with the family, basking in the warmth of the northern English spring. Draco was always by her side, talking freely with his in-laws with Harry nearby. They weren't exactly hiding their relationship, but it was never openly discussed. Harry himself had been too busy with ministry officials to seek out a moment to talk with Ginny about the subject of _them._ She speculated to Draco about whether or not Harry still assumed there was a “them.”

“Yes,” her husband grumpily responded, splashing water on his face a bit too forcefully while they did their nighttime routine. Ginny patiently cleaned it up with a flick of her wand. “He stares at you all the bloody time when you’re not looking.” He straightened up and walked to the shelf with his moisturizers. His mother taught him early to take care of his skin; Draco never missed his nightly routine of applying face cream before bed. 

“I should speak to him,” Ginny said, moving to wash her face at the vacated sink. Her old routine of using a plain bar of soap to wash her face still scarred Draco. He was very glad to see her reach for the luxurious _La Lune_ face wash that he had to pretend cost less than it actually was. He was still working on her frugal habits. 

“Before he gets down on one knee and proposes would be best,” Draco dryly remarked. “You’ve already got a husband, and he doesn’t share. Only child syndrome.”

That earned a very undignified snort of laughter. 

“I’ll find a moment tomorrow, I promise. Who knows, he might’ve even figured it out already. I wear my rings everyday and we're not hiding it...”

Ginny patted her face gently with a monogrammed towel, reaching for her own face cream deep in thought about the conversation she planned to have with her former boyfriend.

+

There ended up being no moment, as Ginny discovered. She found herself busy with visitors wishing to pay their respects to her family. The trio spent much of their time in the study or at the Ministry, going through their time spent away on the road. Draco too began going to the Ministry; he was to be part of a newly formed council to review information for the upcoming trials and to help track down missing Death Eaters who evaded capture with another Ministry team. Ginny worked closely with Lira, the head house elf, to an ensure the house knew everyone's schedules so that hot meals were always on hand, regardless of the hour.

Finally, after another busy two weeks, the chance to sit down quietly with Harry to explain disappeared entirely during family dinner.

The Farmhouse was no longer official headquarters, though many meetings were still happening all over the house for the time being. But meals were family only, with Harry and Hermione, and of course Andromeda with Teddy. Ginny would consider later that it was inevitable that Harry learned of her marriage the way he did. After all, the house elves didn’t know that _he_ didn’t know she was mistress of the house. 

The evening meal began per usual, the little ones in their grandparents laps happily being doted on. Ginny sat beside Draco’s head table chair, at her usual spot. Charlie had left the day before back to Romania, promising to visit in late September. This meant his normal seat, across from Ginny two seats down, was now free for Harry to sit in. The meal went by with idle small talk with Bill and Fleur, the usual two sitting closest to the Malfoys on one side of Draco, Mrs. Weasley right next to Ginny to help her during dinner time. 

Lira popped in, to ask her mistress a question about which room she would like to have her evening tea in. Sometimes it was in her favorite room, the little drawing room with the overstuffed chairs, and sometimes it was in a different location. It all depended on who wanted to join that evening. Lira always asked before dessert, as by then Ginny would have an idea of where to have it. 

“Pardon, Mistress Malfoy,” Lira came to her side, whispering discreetly. “Would Mistress like to have her evening tea in her favorite room tonight with Master Draco, or in a drawing room with her family?”

“Have a night alone, dear.” Mrs. Weasley had overheard the question. She smiled tiredly. “I think you deserve a quiet evening with Draco.” 

Ginny caught Draco’s eye, smiling. 

“Tea for two tonight, Lira. Thank you.”

“Yes, Mistress Malfoy. Lira will prepare it for you and Master Malfoy.”

She disappeared away, leaving a very awkward silence behind. Ginny frowned. The sounds of dinner had stopped completely. She looked around to see everyone watching Harry intently; he was staring at her in shock, his mouth open slightly. His glass of wine had spilled on the table cloth in front of him.

He had overheard.

“Mistress Malfoy?” He asked in a stun tone. “Since when?”

“Um,” Ginny turned towards Draco. His lips quirked in the slightest amused smirk. He didn't say anything though, letting her decide the best way to handle this. 

“Did he trick you?” Harry questioned, his eyes narrowing towards his old school rival. He looked to Mr. Weasley. “Sir, you let her marry a Malfoy?”

“Harry,” warned Hermione from her seat down the table. He ignored her.

“I didn’t let her do anything.” Mr. Weasley answered, his tone a tad crossed, surprising Harry further. “Ginny is an adult who is capable of making her own decisions.”

“Sir, no offense, but you’re truly okay with having _Malfoy_ as your son-in-law?”

“Draco is very much part of the family, Harry.” Mr. Weasley tiredly rubbed his eyes. Had no one really taken five minutes to tell the poor boy about this? He supposed everyone assumed everyone else had already told him. It wasn't exactly a secret. 

“He’s a Death Eater!” Harry burst out. “He has the mark!”

“He is sitting right here,” Draco drawled, “and he would very much like to be excluded from this narrative you’re trying to paint, Potter.”

“Harry, you were gone for a very long time,” Ginny softly said, regret laced in her voice and her expression sad. “There are many things you missed.”

“Clearly,” Harry flippantly replied. “My girlfriend decided being with a Death Eater sounded like a great idea.”

“We weren’t together when you left - that was your choice, not mine. I was free to see other people.” Ginny took a sip of her red wine, wishing it wasn’t almost empty. “I know this quite a shock to you, and I'm sorry. I didn't want you to find out this way, but with the funerals and the briefings with the ministry there hasn't been a good time to tell you."

"Draco has been a vital member of the Order," Bill spoke up in his brother-in-law's defense. 

A flash of annoyance flashed across Harry's face, but he didn't say anything else. Everyone was deliberately avoiding his eyes, even Ron. Only Ginny looked him straight on, compassionate yet burning with fire, ready to defend her _husband_. Harry frowned at his spilled wine glass, picking it up. He wondered if he could get his hands on Firewhiskey.

“Harry,” Mrs. Weasley spoke up, sounding much older than she was. The grief had aged her greatly the last couple of weeks, and white was starting to appear in her red hair. “I’m sure if you're willing to listen, Ginny _and Draco_ would be happy to fill you in on the last four years.” She looked at Ron and Hermione. “You two as well. It would make sense to hear it. We lived it, but you’ve missed out on so much….”

“Sure Mum,” Ginny felt Draco’s hand on top of hers, a sign that it was her choice. “We’ll be in my favorite drawing room for evening tea, if you want to join us.”

She stood up from the table with Draco, leaving no time for anymore questions. If the trio wanted those answered, the drawing room was easy enough to find. She walked out of the room with her husband, her thoughts swirling around in her mind, remembering. They had just settled in their usual spot, tea in hand, when the trio entered the room. Hermione sheepishly caught Ginny’s eye, picking an armchair near the fire and close to the Malfoys. 

Harry avoided their eyes, choosing instead to sit on the couch a bit away from the group. He had tracked down firewhiskey thanks to one of the house elves, and he clutched it in his hand as if it were a lifeline. This left Ron unsure where to sit, finally deciding on an ottoman between Hermione and Harry. 

“Well?” He prompted his little sister, ready to hear how he acquired Draco Malfoy for a brother-in-law. He had barely reacted at all to this news, but then again, Ginny mused, spending so much time with Hermione might have caused him to be a bit less thick headed than he used to be.

Ginny felt Draco’s hand in her her’s as she closed her eyes, thinking of where to start. She opened them, looking at the fireplace.

“Well,” she began, “It was my sixth year, and Draco was Head Boy….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew!
> 
> What are your thoughts on Harry's reaction and Hermione being the clever witch she is, noticing immediately there's something between our favorite pair? Any predictions about Ginny and Draco? Let me know what you think, I love guesses :) Thanks for reading!


	3. A Somber Start to Sixth Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Following me now, Weasley? Stalking is worth at least 15 points,” he drawled, taking delight out of the pink shade gracing the red-head’s face at the assumption.
> 
> “Don’t flatter yourself, Malfoy. My compartment is this way,” Ginny snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that there is a potential trigger in this chapter. It is during the scene of Alecto Carrow's class towards the end before we transition back to the present. This story will get darker, as I wish to accurately depict what Hogwarts was like for the students forced to attend while under Voldemort's control. I will always warn you if a chapter will feature something dark and will update the tags accordingly. 
> 
> It's a longer one, so let's dive right in.

“It was my sixth year, and Draco was Head Boy……”

+

_The Past: Ginny’s Sixth Year_

On the first day of the new semester, it rained. Though this wasn’t rare - it was England after all - the weather certainly seemed to set the tone to the brand new school year. Ginny arrived with just her mum to King’s Cross, having said her goodbyes to her father and brothers the night before. _We don’t want to draw too much attention,_ Mr. Weasley had regretfully told her. _Spies will be about for You-Know-Who. Best for you to be dropped off with little fanfare, pumpkin._

“Now remember to write to us every week,” Mrs. Weasley smoothed down her daughter’s hair as they stood near one of the doors of the Hogwarts Express under the watchful eyes of men and women dressed in dark colors walking the length of the platform; Ginny avoided eye contact with the nearest one casually standing by, listening in to their conversation. Steam billowed out above their heads, creating a fog on the platform, which seemed a bit emptier than the year previously too.There were still new students nervously bidding their parents goodbye among the older students returning for their last year, but the jovial mood of associated with the first day of the semester was somber. Many parents simply watched their children board the train before hurriedly leaving for the safety of home. 

“I will Mum,” Ginny replied, reaching for her trunk that was resting by her feet.

“And if there’s any trouble, stay out of it and go right to a professor you trust.” Mrs. Weasley huffed, “I don’t need letters from Professor McGonagall with detention reports! I’ve had enough of that with your brothers.”

“Okay, Mum.”

“Ginny, I’m serious. The new professors by _him_ -” Mrs. Weasley dropped her voice into a whisper, fervently looking around to ensure no one was listening in, “will be looking for reasons to punish you just for your last name. They’re dangerous.”

“Mum, I know. You’ve told me.” 

The whistle of the train blew, signaling that departure was imminent. 

“Alright, alright. On the train you go then.” Mrs. Weasley pulled Ginny into a brief but bone crushing hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too!” Ginny waved as she stepped into the train, dragging her trunk behind her. “Bye Mum, see you at Christmas!” 

The final whistle blew and the train lurched ahead. Ginny watched as Mrs. Weasley hesitantly gave one quick wave before turning to head home. Sighing, she started down the narrow corridor in search of a familiar face she could sit with. She peeked into each compartment, nodding hello to those in her house that she knew okay enough but not people she would call friends. Her stomach twisted; this year would be especially hard without the trio, as she often had enjoyed sitting by them at meal times or in the common room when they weren’t wrapped up with trying to solve the wizarding world’s problems.

Harry flashed through her mind as she looked into another compartment and saw a boy that strongly resembled him, with messy hair and glasses, sitting with a group of third years.

 _I wish we could have had this year together,_ She thought, depressed. Ever since Fleur and Bill’s wedding Ginny had fought off the _what if’s_ \- a vicious cycle where she’d think _I wish we’ve played one more game of quidditch together_ or _We never got to go to Madam Puddifoot’s together_. She didn’t even like the romantic spot in Hogsmeade! Not knowing where Harry was with Ron and Hermione also kept her imagination busy with worst case scenarios.

Ginny was beginning to think herself into another worrying session when a voice called out from a compartment a little ways down the corridor.

“Ginny!” Neville Longbottom cheerfully said, a slight smile on his face. “We’ve got room here, come join us!” 

“Hiya Neville.” She greeted, entering the compartment he had claimed. Sitting near the window was Luna Lovegood wearing her funny glasses, Quibbler in hand. Ginny’s mood lifted instantly. “I’m so happy to see you guys. A lot of people are missing this year.”

Neville grabbed her trunk before she could protest and placed it up on a rack above their heads before taking the seat across Luna and Ginny.

“I know. You-Know-Who’s policy targets Muggleborns but a lot of kids who are half-blood have been pulled out and sent abroad. My nan told me that a few of her friends have grandkids attending Beauxbatons this year.”

“Daddy wanted me to go there,” Luna said from behind her newspaper. “But I told him I only just got friends last year, I didn’t want to start again.”

Neville caught Ginny’s eye, frowning. Apparently Luna hadn’t lost her tendency to speak matter of factly over the summer. Feeling rather awkward and embarrassed, being guilty of referring to her now friend as _Loony_ , Ginny changed the subject. 

“We haven’t heard anything from Ron. Mum’s kicking up a fuss about it, but Dad told her that we can’t do anything about it. The twins wanted to search for them but Mum shut that down quick,” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Their shop is busier than ever so I don’t see how they could’ve found the time anyways.”

“It’s going to be weird without Harry and Ron in the dormitory. And Dean isn’t back either, being expelled and all.” Neville leaned back in his seat, legs stretching out. He had grown taller over summer, Ginny noticed, and his features were looking less boyish. From the corner of her eye she spotted Luna covertly checking him out. He looked over at her briefly, a slight flush on his neck.

 _Interesting,_ she smiled slightly. _Maybe this year will bring happiness for a couple of us at least._

The subject shifted to upcoming classes, and about how Ginny made Gryffindor quidditch captain.

“I was really surprised actually when the letter came!” She showed them the captain’s badge. “I didn’t think quidditch would be allowed to happen this year.”

“I reckon they want to have it be as normal as possible for the _pureblood experience_ ,” Neville said sarcastically. “But still, congrats Ginny. I know it’s not under the circumstances you’d want but you deserve it.”

“Harry would be happy for you,” Luna added, putting away the Quibbler and taking off her glasses. “He’ll be thrilled for you when he finds out.”

“I hope so. I need to see if I even have an existing team.” 

“At least McLaggen is gone. He graduated last year,” Neville told her. 

“Thank Merlin for minor miracles.” Ginny dug out a piece of parchment and a quill to jot down the names of Gryffindor’s team last year and to distract herself from fretting over Harry; she also hoped a list could help her sort out potential members for the new school year. She listened absentmindedly as Luna and Neville chatted while playing Exploding Snaps before abandoning it in favor of eating chocolate frogs. 

“Alright, there’s three from last year who _should_ be back this year and those who tried out last year and didn’t make the team…” She put the list away and checked out the window. They were somewhere in northern England, the country views basked in the late afternoon sun; there were a few more hours to go until they reached Hogsmeade Station. 

“I’m going to the toilet. Be back in a minute,” Ginny told the pair beside her, who were wrapped up in a conversation about a theory of Luna’s involving being able to stop You-Know-Who with something called a Tsareena, whatever that was. 

The corridor was pretty empty, most of the students in compartments munching on snacks post Trolly Lady. Inside the little bathroom Ginny checked her reflection before heading back. The girl in the mirror looked tired with the beginning of bags under her eyes. 

_Fat chance of getting good sleep in the dorms to fix that,_ Ginny thought wistfully. She opened the door back out into the corridor, only at that moment for the train to take a fast corner and go over a bump in the track. Having gone out the door quickly, she went flying forward towards the compartment doors in front of her. 

A pair of hands reached out from behind and grabbed her, preventing an embarrassing fall into the compartment of unsuspecting students. 

“Watch it, Weasel,” the owner of the helping hands snarled. Surprised Ginny straightened and took a step back as he let go.

“Malfoy,” she warily acknowledged. The older Slytherin looked more exhausted than she did. His usually coiffed hair was messier than she recalled from last year, and deep bags decorated his sullen face. He was already dressed in his school robes. A shiny gold badge was pinned to the front with _Head Boy_ engraved on it. 

“Move it Weasley before I take points away,” Draco scowled, impatient to move past her. He’d seen her go flying out the door and he had impulsively caught her, not wanting to have to deal with the students behind the compartment door if she injured them. He wished nothing more now than to finish up his patrol and relax for the remainder of the train ride before the nightmare called Hogwarts officially started. Unfortunately she was in his way. 

“You know, I was going to say thank you for helping me but it seems like you’re still the same Death Eater git as always. Daddy pay for that badge then, Malfoy?”

“Move Weasley,” Draco growled, shoving past her. The narrowness of the corridor meant he brushed up against her briefly. Warmth radiated off Ginny, scorching him briefly before he strode away. 

Her compartment was regrettably in the same direction that Draco was going. She reluctantly followed him, trying to keep a respectable distance between them. 

Draco turned, sensing he was being followed. His eyes narrowed slightly upon seeing it was her. 

“Following me now, Weasley? Stalking is worth at least 15 points,” he drawled, taking delight out of the pink shade gracing the red-head’s face at the assumption.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Malfoy. My compartment is this way,” Ginny snapped.

“5 points then for loitering in the corridor.”

“Are you serious? You’re blocking my path!” Outraged, Ginny whipped out her wand from the back pocket of her well worn jeans and charged towards the blonde git, stopping just short of barreling into him. “ _Kindly_ move out of my way so I don’t have to be in the same space as Dumbledore’s murderer anymore.”

“Another 5 points from Gryffindor for threatening the Head Boy,” Draco snidely replied, his gray eyes flashing. “And 10 points for slander. You don’t know what you're talking about with that accusation, Weasley.” He turned on his heel back to the direction he was originally headed, pausing briefly to say over his shoulder, “I’d be more cautious if I were you. Not everyone will be lenient this year.”

She glared at his retreating back, twirling her wand and fighting the temptation to hit him with a hex. “Ugh!” Ginny stomped towards the compartment her friends were in, throwing the door open so hard that it rickashayed in the frame, narrowly missing her as she entered the space. 

Neville and Luna jumped in alarm.

“That bloody ferret!” Ginny shrieked, huffing as she sat down. “Bloody Death Eater git!”

“Um, Ginny,” Neville warily ventured, “Alright there?”

“They made Draco Malfoy bloody Head Boy.” Ginny informed them, irate. “I ran into him in the corridor and the prat took away 20 points! All because he was in _my_ way!” 

“Rough start to this year,” Neville sympathized. “Well, we know the only reason he’s head boy is because You-Know-Who needs a puppet to punish those of us who oppose him. I doubt he’d earn it otherwise.”

“Hermione told me last year that he actually gets similar grades to her,” said Luna, who was now in her uniform and placing ribbons in her braids that matched her Ravenclaw tie. They were dotted with stairs that shimmered in the dim light overhead. “He could have earned it. I think it's sad that he won’t be able to prove he earned it with his own merit.”

“Yes, poor little Death Eater Malfoy,” Ginny shook her head. “Whatever. Let’s not tell anyone I got points docked already, yeah Neville?”

“Your secret is safe with me,” he promised, unknowingly not for the last time that year.

+

The Welcoming Feast did not have the usual jauntiness as years prior, Draco thought from his seat at Slytherin’s table in the Great Hall. He didn’t care to admit it, but the school really had a better spirit with Dumbledore at the helm. The failure at murdering him had brought further humiliation to the Malfoy name with the Dark Lord, but Draco had been secretly, _immensely_ , relieved that Snape had taken control of the situation. 

During the sorting, the new head boy searched for the tell-tale red hair of the youngest Weasley, finding her sitting resigned at her house table; several students were notably absent, the house looking smaller than usual. In fact, Draco confirmed with a discreet look around, every house, including Slytherin’s, were sparse. He supposed there had been Muggleborns in his house who blended in; he frowned, pushing the thought away. He didn’t want to start entertaining ideas that would lead to confirming his doubts he had regarding the Dark Lord’s policies. Morals did not fit with trying to survive another day. 

His mind drifted instead to the encounter with the youngest Weasley, and her accusation.

 _Let her think I murdered the batty loon,_ he grimaced, pulling his gaze away from her and back to the front of the hall. _Let them all think it if it means they’ll avoid me._

Up at the head table, two new faces that were unfortunately already well known to Draco, sat among the staff, eyes intently watching the sorting. 

Alecto and Amycus Carrow were loyal supporters of Voldemort and had an established reputation of being loose with the Unforgivable curses. Both were extremely dangerous, but Alecto was the one Draco feared more. She adored violence just as much as his aunt, but whereas Bellatrix was unstable and quick to anger, Alecto relished in drawing out torture and really messing with her victim’s mind. 

Draco had witnessed Alecto during the summer bringing to the Dark Lord a Muggleborn little boy who didn’t even know yet what magic was. His screams still haunted Draco’s nightmares. He clenched his jaw at the memory, ignoring Pansy’s look of concern at the sudden scowl on his face. He ignored her, focusing instead on the front of the Great Hall. 

The sorting soon ended with the last student being sorted in Ravenclaw, and then Severus Snape got up to give his first speech as the new Headmaster, which included an introduction to new rules, some very familiar to those who had endured Dolores Umbridge.

“Any items deemed not of educational value are banned from the premises, unless express permission from your head of house has been granted,” Snape intoned to the sea of faces spread out in front of him. “Literature by non-magical authors are prohibited and will be confiscated if discovered, all clubs are banned with the exception of quidditch.”

Draco suppressed a shudder at the mention of quidditch. He had been given the captaincy of the Slytherin team with the express demand to win the house cup, or else. Draco didn’t want to think what that “or else” entailed. He knew that the Carrows would be reporting to Voldemort on his every move, and that his father was counting on him to bring less shame to the Malfoy name. His parents' lives depended on Draco having a successful school year.

“Students discovered after curfew will face detention with their head of houses,” Snape droned on. “Muggle attire is banned in public areas of the school and students in violation of this will be severely punished.”

“He keeps going on,” Pansy complained to Daphne Greengrass. “This is Umbridge all over again.”

“Will you shush,” Blaise Zabini harshly whispered. “I don’t want to draw that pair’s attention for the wrong reasons,” he tilted his head towards the Carrows. 

Pansy pouted but shut up, choosing instead to snuggle closer to Draco. 

He inwardly groaned. His parents were encouraging an official courtship with the girl, hoping that an engagement could be made shortly after graduation. Mr. Parkinson had a prominent role within the Dark Lord’s inner circle at the new Dark Ministry. 

“The match would be good for our family,” Lucius had said before Draco left for the school year. “Think it over, son.” 

Think it over, of course, meant to _get used to the idea,_ because Draco had little say in the matter. Perhaps in a different world he would have had a pick in a bride. But now that the Malfoy name was tarnished in Pureblood society, regardless of loyalty, there wasn’t much of a selection.

Draco wasn’t sure if Pansy knew about this impending official courtship business, but he wouldn’t give any indication that he did. He prayed to Merlin that he wouldn’t have to find himself married to the girl beside him; death was nearly preferable than the idea of having to spend eternity with Pansy has his wife and her social climbing family as in-laws.

At last Snape sat down, and the familiar scrumptious feast food appeared on the table. Draco took his time eating, avoiding the eyes of those around him. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize and pretend that Voldemort’s take over of the school was progress. Plus, he had to meet with Snape and the Alecto Carrow with Padma Patil, the Head Girl, to go over scheduling for the prefects before he could seek the privacy of the Head Boy room.

He sighed; this night couldn’t end fast enough.

+

“Morning.” Neville sat down at breakfast across from Ginny the next morning. Professor McGonagall came over to hand them their schedules.

Ginny looked it over. Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, and Herbology and Mythology, her preferred choice for an elective; none of which surprised her. But there was one class on there that she definitely hadn’t requested to take. 

“Muggle Studies? But professor, I didn’t sign up for this elective,” Ginny told her, confused. 

“It’s required this year for all students,” Professor McGonagall informed them, resignedly. “It’s combined for sixth and seventh years due to low numbers in your respective years,” she paused. “Miss Weasley, Professor Slughorn has low numbers in his seventh year class as well. As you received an Outstanding, you will be joining them in a combined class.”

“You got an Outstanding in Potions?” Neville asked in awe. “Wow. I only got an Acceptable.”

“I enjoy it,” Ginny shrugged, putting her schedule away. _Hermione would be proud of my workload this year,_ she thought, wishing there was a way to let her friend know.

“Mr. Longbottom, Professor Sprout has requested that you assist her with the first years. Are you interested?” 

Neville’s face brightened. “Yes,” he replied, excited. “That would be great.”

Professor McGonagall nodded. “Good. I think you’ll be a help.” She tapped his schedule to add it on, then walked away to continue with handing out the schedules.

“Guys,” Parvati Patil leaned over from her spot down the bench next to Lavender Brown. “What’s the deal with this Muggle Study class?”

“I wanted to take Mythology as my second elective,” Lavender complained. “I took Muggle Studies third year.” 

“I reckon it’ll be a load of anti-muggle rubbish,” Ginny quietly guessed. She didn’t want to be risked being overheard by the wrong person. “That Carrow lady is the new professor for it and we all know who gave her the position.” She wasn’t afraid to say Voldemort’s name out loud, but she knew that others would feel more fearful about the taboo.

“I overheard by the staff lounge room that a lot of the upperclassmen classes are combined this year,” Parvati said, “And that anti-muggle propaganda is to be incorporated whenever possible.”

“She was eavesdropping,” Lavender smirked. “Professors like to gossip when they’re drinking coffee.”

Parvati shrugged. “It's the best way to get good information. Hermione could have saved a lot of time if she hung out in the corridor by the staff lounge and listened in.”

“We need all the information possible,” Neville chimed in. “But be careful, Parv. Those Carrows don’t look like the type to gossip and bond with co-workers.”

“Don’t worry, Padma already gave me the lecture. She’s worried that the Slytherin prefects will overstep boundaries like when Umbridge was in charge. I’ve never seen her more upset than when she returned from the Head meeting and told us Draco Malfoy was the other Head student this year.”

“At least Padma got the role of Head Girl. I’d be even more worried if they gave it to Pansy too,” Ginny looked over towards the Slytherin table. She spotted Pansy cuddled up to the new Head Boy’s side, who looked very much like he swallowed a lemon. Draco started turning his head in her direction, as if pulled by a string to catch her in the act of spying. Abruptly Ginny moved her gaze away in a very unsmooth attempt at pretending she was merely taking in the action around the Great Hall. 

She didn’t dare look in his direction again. 

+

The first day of classes went alright, considering Draco was taking a rigorous course load and had the constant threat of Voldemort killing his parents looming over him. Mercifully, Pansy didn’t share much of his classes this year. Her grades had been subpar for Potions, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes, three classes Draco excelled at. He was also taking Alchemy, offered for the first time in a few years. He only shared Transfiguration and DADA with Pansy, and the new anti-muggle class that Alecto Carrow was in charge of. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take Charms?” Pansy had pouted during lunch after spending morning classes apart. “Isn’t it more useful than complicated math?”

“Not all of us aspire to be housewives,” Draco rolled his eyes; he had been quite pleased with his schedule. If miraculously he could ever pursue the career path of a researcher at the Ministry…. 

“Charms is not just for housewives!” Daphne Greengrass indignantly huffed from beside Pansy. “It’s essential for Healers to be knowledgeable in it.”

“Since when did your parents let you consider working?” Theodore Nott asked from his spot a few seats down, interested in the conversation unfolding. “Don’t you have a match lined up following graduation?”

“Mother doesn’t think any of the Death Eaters have suitable sons for me,” Daphne sniffed. “Guess that means you’re out of the running, Nott.”

“We’ll see,” Theodore replied. “I can be quite _charming_ when I need to be. Ask your cousin Gwyneth about that summer party we all attended at the Douglas estate. She can attest to my charm.”

“Ew!” Daphne wrinkled her nose. “As if she would ever even lay eyes on you.”

“She certainly didn’t mind laying with me in the rose garden,” Theodore smirked at the look of outrage on Daphne’s face.

“Can we get back to what matters here,” Pansy cut in, leaning closer towards Theodore and Daphne to talk about more pointless shit. Draco tuned out and took a bite of his sandwich, glancing up as he did so, catching a flash of red hair whipping towards another direction. Ginny Weasley was failing spectacularly at spying. This was the second time that day she had been looking in his direction.

He narrowed his eyes, openly watching her while eating his lunch. She was holding court again at Gryffindor table; Loony Lovegood sat with her, contributing to a conversation that he would bet galleons was about him or the new professors. Without her precious Potter, she seemed to be stepping in naturally as the leader of her house. He’d have to keep an eye on her, he mused. It was his duty after all as a _Death Eater scum_ to watch the enemy.

+

That turned out to be much easier than he anticipated.

The next day after shaking off Pansy at the end of breakfast, Draco found himself trailing behind a group of boisterous Hufflepuffs heading down towards the dungeons for a double period of Potions. Though he was aware of combined classes for NEWT students, it surprised Draco to see the youngest red-haired Weasley sitting at a table when he entered the classroom.

Her brother had been in the class last year, out of place and bumbling about with the help of Granger. Ginny Weasley however looked confident and self assured while waiting for Professor Slughorn to arrive. Much to his annoyance, Draco saw that she was well at home in _his_ usual seat, comfortably in the middle of the action but close enough to the front to see the board clearly.

He stalked over, his eyes on her the entire time. She looked up as he got closer, her own hazel eyes narrowed.

“Malfoy,” she acknowledged. 

“You’re in my seat,” he coolly replied, crossing his arms in an attempt to look intimidating. 

Ginny looked around at the table, her cauldron already set up in front of her. 

“I don’t see a sign with your name on it. Do you have a receipt for proof of purchase?”

He ignored the comment. 

“Move it, Weasley.”

Ginny twirled her dark red hair around a finger, pretending to think it over.

“No. There’s plenty of other seats, Malfoy.” She waved her hands around to emphasize the pathetic small number of students taking the class this year. 

Draco knew he could easily find a similar seat. The point was, however, that the seat Ginny was currently occupying had always been his seat, year after year, and that it was one of the few things he could still depend on being the same.

“Weasley,” he started again, only for Professor Slughorn to bustle in from his back office. 

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy! You’ve read my mind, my boy. Take your seat beside Miss Weasley, we’ll be pairing up students for the first half of the semester….”

Draco froze, staring at the jovial old man who was looking at a piece of parchment on his desk, unaware of the two students who were hostilely glaring at him. 

“Miss Patil, paired with Mr. Macmillan…”

“Sit down,” Ginny finally hissed as Draco refused to move into the seat beside her. She didn’t know if Slughorn had actually assigned them together or just decided to do so on a split second decision. However irritated she was at the moment, it certainly was not the time to annoy a teacher she knew could probably be counted on as a valuable ally against the Death Eater staff members. 

She tugged on Draco’s arm, yanking him down when he refused to comply into the seat beside her.

“Watch it, Weasley,” he furiously whispered, wiping the sleeve she dared touch and scooting his chair as far away as possible. He made a mental note to sit on the opposite side of the table next class. 

Ginny rolled her eyes as he moved. _His own fault,_ she thought as he pulled out his cauldron and began to finally set up, as Slughorn continued to call out the names of paired students. She noticed that the old man seemed to be deliberately pairing up students from opposite houses. _Too late to promote student unity._

“And that leaves of course Miss Jones with Mr. Nott. Now, let’s move to our tables, quickly now…” 

Once satisfied with his students' table arrangements, Professor Slughorn turned his attention to the blackboard. He waved his wand, letters gracefully scrawling out in chalk the day’s lesson. Draco focused on copying notes about the complex potion they were beginning with, one that dealt with reversing the side effects of a particular nasty curse. He steadily ignored the sound of Ginny’s quill scratching on the parchment beside him. 

The double period stretched on as they went over the medicinal properties of Blue Squirrel tails when combined with a snake’s venom, until finally they were told to practice brewing the potion together. 

Ginny went straight to the cupboard of ingredients, ignoring Draco as she walked by him. They worked in silence when she returned, making minor corrections to each other and keeping a huge distance between them. When Professor Slughorn came by to check on them, he merely nodded once and went to Ernie Macmillan and Padma Patil’s table, where a blue-grayish smoke was rising increasingly from the former’s cauldron. 

When the class ended and vials were handed in, Ginny was packed up and out the room before Draco even realized she was gone. 

+

“I’m not looking forward to this class,” Neville grumbled as he climbed the stairs to the Muggle Studies classroom with Ginny and Luna. It was the class immediately following lunch, mercifully a single period instead of a double. 

“Just remember that everything she says is hateful garbage. We know the truth,” Ginny said as they reached the corridor where the classroom was located. A small crowd of sixth and seventh years were waiting outside the door when they reached it, chatting quietly amongst their groups.

They stood with a lonely looking Seamus, who offered them a weak smile. Ginny could tell that without his best friend Dean, Hogwarts probably harder. Like Harry was with Ron and Hermione, other students were too with their own group of friends, tight knit with years worth of pranks and past curfew stories. 

The trio took so much attention naturally with Harry as the center, that so many other students went by unnoticed. Ginny bit her lip, mulling the thought over. She was close to thinking something significant about that, but the sound of the classroom door creaking open pulled her from the moment. 

“Let’s do this,” Neville said to no one in particular, squaring his shoulders back and nodding once to himself. Ginny thought it seemed like he was trying to trick himself into confidently going in. He strode forward, not looking back. Ginny looked at Luna, only to see she was following him close behind. 

Ginny went next, aware that this seemed to move the rest of the sixth and seventh years into action. She noted that some of the Slytherins, such as Daphne Greengrass, seemed wary too, holding back slightly and unusually sticking by a few of the Ravenclaws. Pansy Parkinson had gone in, trailing behind Draco but she too seemed a bit demure.

If some of the Slytherins, children of known Death Eaters or casual supporters of Voldemort were hesitant, what exactly was waiting for them? 

Ginny took a seat near Neville and Luna behind the row of Slytherins who claimed the very front, either braver for once than the Gryffindors or simply already acquainted with the newest Muggle Studies professor. Everyone quietly took out their quills and parchment, a nervous energy in the air.  


The door to the side that went to the professor's office opened. Alecto Carrow entered the room with purpose and an air of arrogance. Her robes were black and a slightly more polished version of the Death Eater robes Ginny remembered seeing at the Ministry when she went with Harry and their friends during her fourth year. Her sleeves came down to her elbows, her snake and skull tattoo proudly displayed on her forearm. 

She took her place in front of them, tapping her wand in one hand and eyeing them up. 

Ginny suppressed a shiver as cold blue eyes took her in, a cruel smile on the short witch’s face.

“I need a volunteer,” Alecto Carrow said, not bothering with an introduction.She went sweeping past the Slytherins who turned to look as she stopped in front of Ginny. “Perhaps you, Miss Weasley?”

It didn’t surprise Ginny that Alecto knew who she was. She imagined the Death Eaters had a list of every blood-traitor family and their members somewhere. 

She tried not to let her voice quaver. Ginny didn’t want to appear afraid in front of the menacing Death Eater. As polite as possible, she asked, “Volunteer for what, Professor?” 

Alecto narrowed her eyes in response.

“If you have to ask, that means you didn’t do the readings in preparation for class.” She tapped her wand again. “Tsk. Tsk. That means punishment. _Get up,_ ” she ordered Ginny, pointing her wand right in the red-head’s face. 

Slowly, Ginny stood up. There hadn’t been any readings assigned that she knew of, and based on the reactions of her classmates, none of them knew about it either. She realized in that moment she was being made an example of. 

“Here, girl. Now.” Alecto had her go to the front of the classroom, facing everyone. She caught Luna’s eyes for a brief moment before finding a spot on the wall to focus on. “If you come to my class unprepared, it’s not _just you_ who suffers the consequences, it’s your classmates.” Alecto snarled. “Laziness is not tolerated. YOU!” She marched up to Padma Patil sitting near the back with her sister and friends. “Join Miss Weasley at the front of the classroom.”

Shaking, Padma joined Ginny, eyes wide. 

Alecto told the class, “For her laziness, Miss Weasley has caused ten points to be taken away from each house for every student in this classroom.” “Miss Patil, our Head Girl, will properly punish Miss Weasley for not doing the reading and losing points.”

Ginny’s stomach twisted. An unnerving feeling clawed at her; she looked at Draco Malfoy staring at her with an unreadable expression from his seat in the front row.

_She’s trying to turn us against each other… To make sure we toe the line._ Ginny quickly realized Alecto hadn’t chosen him on purpose; it suited her purpose more for Padma to be the one forced to give out the punishment. Ginny wished it was Draco standing up there with her. She already hated him. It would give her another justified reason to hate him more.

“Miss Patil, Crucio I think is justified. After all, Miss Weasley has caused over eighty points to be taken from your house alone today…. And only the second day of term.” Alecto curled her lip as Padma heistated. “Go on, Miss Patil. Like this, _CRUCIO!_ ”

Before Ginny could register it, the most excruciating pain shot through her body. Her knees gave out, causing her to fall hard onto the stone floor as she screamed. She choked back tears as the searing pain lingered in her bones. 

Alecto didn’t look satisfied, turning her attention back to Padma. “Your turn, Miss Patil.”

Padma shakily raised her wand, pointing it at Ginny. “Crucio,” she whispered, but nothing happened.

“ _You have to mean it!_ This blood traitor deserves no sympathy, Miss Patil. Try again!” 

Padma did try again, but this time only a murmur of pain hit Ginny. She looked up in time to see Alecto push Padma towards her, growling. “Pathetic. Ten points from Ravenclaw for failing to properly punish Miss Weasley.”

“You,” Alecto pointed at Theodore Nott, sitting quietly in the front row and avoiding eye contact with the Death Eater. “Mr Nott. I know your father has taught you how to use the Cruciatus Curse. Perhaps you could be so kind to demonstrate for the class what happens when you are unprepared.”

Theodore stood up with his wand in hand, moving to the front and facing the pair of girls opposite from him. He raised his wand, waiting for the command. 

“Both of them, Mr. Nott.” Alecto ordered him, “This is what happens when you come to my class and refuse to comply! Refuse to be prepared! Now, Mr. Nott.”

Ginny watched as something flickered in Theodore’s eyes, gone in an instant as he waved his wand neatly towards her. “ _Crucio!_ ”

The pain hit Ginny again, knocking her to her feet. She was dully aware of Padma crying beside her, and the sounds of protest from Neville as Alecto did the curse once more.

“Excellent, Mr. Nott. Twenty points to Slytherin.” Theodore didn’t react as Alecto smiled and dismissed him back to his seat. He sat down again, refusing to look at the pair of girls on the ground in front of the Slytherins’ desks. 

“They need to go to Madam Pomfrey!” Neville bursted out, standing up to his full height. 

“Don’t tempt me into sending you to join your parents, Mr. Longbottom. Sit down.” Alecto flicked her wand, causing Neville to forcefully down in his seat. “If you make another sound in this class I will have no choice but to give you detention.”

She turned her attention to Ginny and Padma, each trying to catch their breath and calm down despite the lingering pain. 

“You two, to your seats. We have material to cover. If you delay us any longer you will both be forced to see me for detention later.”

Ginny bit her lip, standing slowly and offering Padma a hand once Alecto’s back was turned to the blackboard. Gingerly, they walked to their seats. 

It nearly took the wind out of Ginny from the effort of sitting down and picking up her quill. She tried to ignore the eyes watching her throughout the remainder of class, which predictably was filled with anti-Muggle propaganda.

When class finally ended, Ginny made it out the door without assistance and down the first set of stairs before it became too much, fainting on the landing. 

She didn’t see Draco behind her, clenching his fist with a slight frown as Neville and Luna rushed to catch her as she gave in to the aching of her body, falling. 

++  
_Present Day, The Farmhouse_

“Bloody hell,” Ron whispered, looking at his little sister in horror. “That lady _tortured_ you? In class?” He looked quite upset, wrangling his hands together. 

Ginny smiled sympathetically. “It’s in the past, Ron. I’m okay now.” She reached across from her seat beside Draco and patted her brother affectionately on the knee. Harry, from his spot on the couch, looked dazed.

“I had no idea,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. His fire-whiskey was long drained. “We didn’t know what was happening at Hogwarts. We - I thought you’d be safer there.” He sat up, bitterness lacing his voice. 

“We knew the Death Eaters would be horrible,” Hermione reminded him, sighing. “We heard rumors when we chanced a night at the inns.”

“But still,” Harry protested. “Turning students on each other..” He looked at Draco, frowning. “But you were one of them. When did this heart of gold show up?”

Draco gazed at the fireplace where the fire was burning low. The hour was quite late now. “I didn’t help her, if that’s what you’re _really_ asking.” He turned back to face Harry. “Not then, at least.” The familiar feeling of guilt from those days rose up inside, but a slight touch of the hand from Ginny calmed him down. 

“It’s late,” she gently said to the group. “We can pick up tomorrow night after dinner, if you’d like?”

Hermione nodded, stifling a yawn. “Great idea, I’m knackered. Come on you two,” she nudged Ron to get up. “Bedtime. We have a meeting late morning with Garris Phillips from the OutReach Program and it’s already well past midnight...”

They bid the Malfoys goodnight, leaving them alone in the dim light of the fire.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty.” Ginny said after a few moments. “We didn’t know back then what our future was going to be. We were playing our roles as expected.”

“I don’t like remembering,” Draco looked down at his hands, examining his wedding band. It was a simple silver band, nothing too flashy but Ginny knew the cost of the ring was more than what her father had made in a year back when he worked his old Ministry job. “Why do we need to satisfy Potter with telling the story? We’re together now. That should be enough.”

“It just seems fair to explain. They missed it all… I just want him to know I didn’t _abandon_ him… that…” Ginny wiped a tear away, sniffling. 

Draco sighed, pulling her closer to him. “Okay,” he said, closing his eyes briefly. “It’s just not a great feeling, you know. To feel like you’ve robbed the hero of his heroine.”

Ginny snorted. “What are you talking about?”

“Potter. All those bloody novels feature a hero who returns home to his fair maiden waiting for him. He’s the hero of the wizarding world and everyone expected you to end up with him, even you Ginny.”

“You’ve been spending too much time in the library again,” Ginny retorted, eyes closed. “Fair maiden, my arse.” 

Draco chuckled. “You never were a damsel in distress,” he acknowledged. “Except that first day of Carrow’s class. You nearly broke your neck, fainting on those stairs.”

“You didn’t seem overly concerned for my well-being at the time,” Ginny told him, opening her eyes to his face close to her’s. “Neville and Luna caught me, took me to the Hospital Wing.” 

She gave him a chaste peck on the lips.

“Can we skip the other torture stuff tomorrow night?” He frowned as Ginny got up, pulling him with her. “I don’t want them knowing _everything_. Your brother is barely tolerating as it is.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Ginny reassured her husband as they headed up their rooms for bed. “Some things are left in the past.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a few days to write, so I'm very happy to have it done and posted. I will be editing it again so anything a little odd will get fixed, promise. As always, if you enjoyed it let me know. I appreciate the reviews so much. My husband finds it adorable that I get so excited when I get notified of a comment lol :)


	4. Gray and Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“No, Weasley.” He didn’t bother looking at her._
> 
> _“You don’t know what I was about to say!” Ginny huffed, sitting down on the hard stone floor beside him, ignoring her body’s protest._
> 
> _“You said my first name, so already I know it’s going to be some Gryffindor rubbish about trying to help me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in updating! I hope you are holding up okay given everything that is going on in the world and that this chapter provides a much needed relief from the news. We all need a few moments of the day to take a mental health break, and if you are choosing to spend that reading my story, please know I am truly humbled. <3
> 
> There is mention of the Carrows' detentions and their horrible torture methods right off the bat in this chapter. If this is triggering for you - especially with what is going on in the US - please feel free to avoid those parts. The present day sections summarizes it for the most part.

_The Past: Ginny’s Sixth Year_

“Bloody hell, y’alright mate?” An alarmed Seamus Finnigan raced over from his spot in the common room to the portrait hole entrance as Neville staggered in, supported by a grim looking Ginny. It was late October, a few days shy of Halloween. The atmosphere of Hogwarts could only be best described as gloom and doom; the Carrow twins ruled over the students with a penchant for quick violence as punishment for the most minor of infractions. 

“I’m fine,” Neville gasped, as Seamus took over from Ginny, leading his friend to a sofa. Everyone watched as Neville collapsed, wincing as they caught sight of the gashes on his arms and face. A particularly nasty one cut at the corner of his lip. A deep purple was spreading on his cheek. 

“The Carrows,” Ginny informed them, shaking her head. “Neville defended a pair of second year Hufflepuffs against that lunatic Amycus near the library. He was about to curse them for ‘walking nervously’ when they saw him. Bloody ridiculous.” 

“They’re both kids of Ministry officials,” Neville said, each word sounding as if it pained him. “Easy targets.”

“They got away safely, I made sure of it,” Ginny reassured him. “I escorted them to their common room and told Ernie what happened,” she told Seamus. “Then I went back and saw Neville on the ground, Amycus nowhere to be seen.”

“Bloody hell,” Seamus muttered. “Mate we should take you to the Hospital Wing.” 

Neville shook his head, ignoring the aching protest of his body as he did so. “No use, Madam Pomfrey will have to report it and…”

“And we know what happens when we see her now,” Seamus finished for him, sighing. They had all learned the hard way after Ginny’s first visit. Madam Pomfrey had to write up a report, which then Alecto Carrow had full access to as Deputy Headmistress. This resulted in further torture and humilation in class the following day for _telling lies to the school healer_ and proof that associating with Muggleborns weakened Purebloods, _they leach it off the worthy and leave us vulnerable._

Ginny had earned a detention with Alecto for arguing against the logic. She could imagine vividly the stinging feel of the Cruciatus when she closed her eyes to sleep.

“I can get a potion from Padma to ease that,” Parvati came closer to Neville, crouching down and feeling his forehead. She frowned. “You have a burning fever. Someone get him a cooled cloth while I run to Ravenclaw tower.”

“I’ll do it,” a small third year boy shyly volunteered, getting up from his corner table seat and disappearing up the boys stairs. Parvati headed off out to the corridor beyond the portrait hole; Ginny hoped she would reach it without running into any of the Slytherin Prefects starting their nightly duty. 

“Good lad, that kid,” Seamus said, grabbing a chair and pulling it closer to the sofa. He sat down, focusing on Neville. “Keep your eyes open, Longbottom, you need to stay awake.”

“Urgh,” Neville grunted, doing what Seamus asked. “Ginny you should go up and sleep, you’ve got the first quidditch match against Hufflepuff tomorrow.”

“Sod quidditch,” Ginny fiercely replied. “You’re more important at the moment.”

“It’ll make me feel better if we win and advance to the match against Slytherin,” Neville countered, a light smile on his face. He winced though; the gash that cut close to his lips prevented him from being able to hold a smile for more than a second. 

“I’ll wait until Parvati gets back and see with my own eyes you get the potion,” she countered, pacing in front of the fireplace. Her mind whirled with thoughts. Sleep would have been pointless with so much fighting for attention in her head.

“Fine,” Neville conceded. Seamus started to have him recite plants and their medicinal properties to ensure that he stayed alert. The third year boy returned with a wet cloth for Neville’s head, blushing slightly when thanked for the help. The students lingering in the common room took this as their cue to pack up for the night and move to their dorm rooms, leaving the older students alone. 

This was becoming routine, Ginny thought wryly. This wasn’t the first time Padma had been hastily summoned to Gryffindor tower to help. 

Ginny’s mind drifted towards the latest letter Bill had sent her, heavily censored to get past the screening the Carrows had set up. On the surface it appeared to be a rather mundane letter about her mother’s Sunday dinners and upcoming quidditch match, but in reality it brought news of home. Or rather, lack of news. 

Somehow there was enough vagueness there to piece together that there had been no word on Harry, Ron, and Hermione. It worried Ginny to no end that they were out there somewhere facing danger. Harry especially weighed heavily on her mind. There was so much she wanted to tell him about; so often she wondered what he would do if at Hogwarts in the current situation. 

He’d be horrified for sure, planning a way to take action against the regime. Dumbledore’s Army would be well under way, and Hermione would certainly be researching endlessly in the library for spells to teach. 

At least he would be proud that we’re working on Dumbledore’s Army, Ginny thought as her pacing led to the window. The moon and stars were hidden tonight behind clouds, matching the mood in the common room. Another thought crossed her mind; perhaps the trio would’ve once again tried to protect her and not tell her their plans. She scoffed, an uncomfortable feeling ebbing in her stomach. She hated being left out. Unfortunately it happened far too much, by Harry worst of all, and by her entire family. Being both the only daughter and the youngest sibling sometimes had their advantages, but lately it was a hindrance. 

Frustrated at the thought, Ginny twirled on her heels back towards the sofas.

“.... Mandrake,” Seamus said to Neville as the portrait hole swung open again. Parvati hurried in, Padma and Luna at her side. 

“Oh Neville,” Luna said, sitting on her knees on the worn rug and gently taking his hand. “Are you okay,” she asked sincerely, her big blue eyes looking over him carefully.

“I’m fine,” Neville squeezed her hand as Padma came over, setting her school bag on the arm of the sofa and opening it up.

“I thought it best to bring a little of everything like last time,” Padma said, taking out salves and potion bottles. “Luna,can you apply the salve to his cuts and bruises?”

Luna nodded seriously, taking a salve that smelled like mint and lavender and something else Ginny couldn’t identify. 

“Neville? I need you to take this, it’s a healing potion meant to ease the aches.” Padma helped him to sit up, placing a pillow behind him for support. She watched as he obeyed her command, taking the empty bottle from his hands and replaced it with a new one. “This one will get rid of your headache - don’t give me that look, I’ve suffered from that curse too, I know it leaves a migraine - good,” she handed him one last potion. 

“I don’t need a sleeping potion,” Neville protested half-heartedly, accepting it. “Wake me up though for the game, I don’t want to miss it…”

“Drink,” Padma, Luna, and Ginny said at the same time. He did so, immediately feeling a pleasant drowsiness tingle replacing the awful aches. 

“All done,” Luna announced, sitting back from rubbing salve over the visible injuries. “Get some sleep, Neville, or else you'll catch the attention of a Drifblim.”

“A what?” Seamus mouthed to Ginny. She shrugged. It was another one of those odd things Luna spouted.

“Seamus, help him up the stairs and monitor his breathing tonight,” Padma said as she began to pack up. 

“Come on mate, up we get,” Seamus got Neville onto his feet, and slowly guided him up the stairs to the dormitories. “Night Padma, Luna.”

“Thanks for coming again, Padma.” Ginny said as the Ravenclaw packed up her healing supplies. 

“Of course,” Padma replied, looking up and sighing. “Have you given it any more thought?”

“Yeah, I think we need to. I’ll talk more with Neville and Seamus sometime this weekend,” Ginny chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Restarting the DA is against what I promised my mum and dad but I don’t think they knew how bad it would be here.”

“I know several Ravenclaws who are willing to join,” Padma said. “Right Luna?”

“Yes,” Luna blinked, tearing her gaze away from the fireplace. “It’s a popular topic right now in the common room. Of course I just overhear it, no one includes me…”

“They will soon,” Ginny firmly said, “You’re going to be one of the leaders this time, Luna. You fought with Harry when we went to the Ministry, you’ve proven yourself capable.”

“Oh,” the blonde girl looked pleasantly surprised. “That’s lovely, thank you. I have some theories we can discuss in utilizing zubats if you’re interested.Daddy thinks they could be proven lethal in combat.” 

“Um, yeah. Sure.” Ginny turned to Padma. “We’ll try and come up with a good time to meet at the Room of Requirement and go from there. Common rooms are risky.”

“Agreed, and speaking of risk,” Padma caught Luna’s eye and nodded to the portrait hole. “We need to go; even if I’m Head Girl it will be suspicious we’re out this late.”

“Goodnight,” Parvati gave her twin a hug. She had been sitting quietly with Lavender in an overstuffed chair by the fireplace since returning from getting her sister. 

The pair of Ravenclaws left, leaving just the noise of the crackling fire in their wake.

“You should get some sleep, Ginny. Tomorrow’s a big day,” Lavender kindly reminded her ex-boyfriend’s sister. “We’re going too.”

Ginny bid the best friends goodnight, heading to her dorm room. Tomorrow would come too soon, and she needed all the rest she could get if she was going to win quidditch _and_ plan the resurrection of Dumbledore’s Army. 

+

Across the castle, Draco moodily sat in the leather chair by the fireplace in the privacy of his Head Boy’s room. A full glass of firewhiskey rested on the side table beside him, forgotten. 

When the clock on the mantle struck midnight the flames of the fire changed to a shade of green as Lucius Malfoy’s face appeared. 

“Father,” Draco stiffly greeted him, getting off the chair and crouching down in front of the flames.

“Son, anything to report?” Lucius didn’t bother with pleasantries.

“There’s little to tell, Father. The Carrows are terrorizing the students whose parents are known blood-traitors. They openly use Unforgivables to try and gain information to use against the Order, but they’ve only succeeded in open rebellion from some of my more.. brash classmates.”

“Humph,” Lucius replied. “Alecto and Amycus are most loyal to the Dark Lord. Be sure to stay on their good side.”

“I am Father,” Draco ran a hand through his hair. “But Father, I still don’t know what my mission is supposed to achieve. Hogwarts hides what it wants to and there are so many potential hiding places -”

“You don’t need to know the why, Draco. You just need to do it. Don’t concern yourself with the business of the Carrows. Once you’re able to track the diadem down, the Dark Lord will restore us of our former glory.”

“It’s been lost for centuries!” Frustrated Draco closed his eyes. He was doomed. His parents were doomed too and would be killed because of him. 

“That’s the point, Son.” Lucius quietly reminded him. “But this is the mission he assigned you and it is of utmost importance you find it. Try getting closer to one of the Ravenclaws. I’m sure there a few, ahem, acceptable Pureblood daughters in that house you could glean information from.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Pansy wouldn’t be keen on that, Father. Not that I care, I told you before the semester started I didn’t want to be stuck with her for a wife.” 

“Mr. Parkinson is in talks with Mr. Nott according to a reliable source,” Lucius told him. “It appears that Theodore Nott is considered a safer choice for Mr. Parkinson’s precious only daughter.”

“Oh?” That was interesting. Draco wondered if either Theodore or Pansy were aware of this. 

“Yes, so you’re free to, well, you know. Choose carefully son, for the Malfoy name still carries weight, even if the wheel of fortune is currently turned down. We will rise again. We always do.”

“Yes, Father.”

“I must go. Your mother sends her love. Goodnight.” Lucius disappeared from the flames before Draco could say the same. 

He sat back on his heels, thinking of this new piece of information. Irrelevant to his impossible mission, but still interesting. He had never considered his studious but raunchy housemate a potential match of Pansy. Daphne wouldn’t take it well if his father’s gossip provided true. Draco stayed out of inner house drama but even he couldn’t have missed the turbulent breakup between Daphne and Theodore last year shortly before - . 

He shook his head, willing the memory of failing to disappear. Draco walked back to his chair, slumping down and grabbing the firewhiskey, downing it; he savored the burning liquid as it caressed his throat. Tension built up as his mission, the heavy cloud over his last year at Hogwarts, forced its way to the center of his mind. 

“Bloody impossible,” he said out loud to no one. “What does _he_ need with Ravenclaw’s diadem anyways?”

Abruptly he got up and stomped into the bathroom, twisting the handles of the shower. Hot water poured out, the steam rising as he stripped and got under the scalding water. Showers were his thinking place, the one spot he knew he could be uninterrupted by anyone. He scrubbed the soapy washcloth over his body, focusing on the mark on his left forearm as if he could merely wash it away. 

+

_Present Day, The Farmhouse_

“Hang on a moment, Malfoy,” Ron said from his spot in the armchair in the small drawing room, interrupting Draco. “Not that I appreciate the visual of you in the shower,” he shuddered, “but you’re meaning to tell me you knew about Ravenclaw’s diadem a whole lot sooner than we did?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I was getting to that part.”

“I’m confused,” Hermione said then. She was sitting on the settee beside Harry, a light blanket covering her legs and a mug of hot tea in her hands. “If I’m following correctly, there was torture happening daily towards students, and Ginny restarted Dumbledore’s Army shortly before Halloween.”

“Yes,” Ginny affirmed. “What’s the confusing part?”

“Well, you and Draco were partners in Potions,” Hermione sipped her tea. “I thought that was going to be a big, er, _plot point_ , for lack of a better word, to your story.”

“Oh that,” Draco smirked. “Ginny barely spoke the minimum to me during Potions, except to call me ferret and other cute insults.”

“Cute insults?” Ginny mocked. “Really Draco, if I remember correctly there was one time I called you a Little Squ-”

“We agreed to not talk about that, ever.” Draco interrupted his wife. He grinned at her, shocking the trio before them. They had never seen him make a genuine, happy smile that wasn’t at the expense of someone else. “Besides I remember your delight at being wrong -”

“I really don’t need to hear this,” Harry spoke up, wishing to change the subject back to what mattered. “I’m more interested in learning more about Draco’s mission with the diadem.”

“I’m relevant to that,” Ginny told him. “I promise we’re getting there.”

“Perhaps a quick recap to get us to when you two started becoming, well, whatever you were before getting married,” Hermione suggested. 

“My father knew Voldemort had created horcruxes,” Draco told them. “I don’t think he knew how many there were. Only a few in the inner circle even knew about their existence.”

“So as punishment for failing to murder Dumbledore, he assigned you to a mission to try and find his own horcrux made with Ravenclaw’s diadem?” Ron frowned. “Why would he do that? Why not just keep it lost where it’s safer?”

“To ensure we couldn’t get our hands on it,” Harry quietly said. “If he had it, he could keep it safe, hide it somewhere even more obscure, like on the continent.” 

Draco nodded. “Precisely, Potter. But of course I didn’t know about that at the time. I simply thought it was a punishment setting me up for inevitable failure.”

“When do you enter into this?” Hermione asked Ginny, trying to understand everything. 

“The new DA started up around Halloween. We started leaving graffiti messages in corridors to taunt the Carrows - don’t look at me like that Hermione, it was a strategy - and as a result detentions got ramped up. DA members began openly defending students and loudly questioning the lessons taught in the classes taught by the Carrows.” Ginny pulled a throw blanket from the back of the loveseat and threw it over her shoulders, resting her hands on her stomach. It had rained all day, the northern chill sapping up any warmth that might have accompanied it. 

“The Carrows had me patrolling during the detentions, sometimes forcing the prefects and myself to participate,” Draco deeply frowned at the memory. “I was Head Boy and part of the Death Eater ranks so there was much expectation.”

“And Ginny got detention a lot I presume,” Hermione correctly guessed.

“Yeah, we ran into each other.” Ginny looked at Draco, a slight smile on her face. Hermione noted the look of love in the red head’s eyes when she did so. “He started to help me sometime before Christmas.”

“I wouldn’t call it helping,” Draco dryly contested. “I was merely doing my duty as Head Boy.” 

“It was helping Draco, don’t be coy now.” Ginny crossed her arms. “Admit it.”

“Sorry, but um,” Harry interrupted, his eyebrows furrowed. “What are you talking about? How did Draco help you? And where does the diadem enter into this?”

“Did you win against Hufflepuff?” Ron butted in, completely off topic.

“Ginny led Gryffindor to victory each game until the Carrows cancelled the tournament,” Draco said, a hint of pride in his voice. 

“Wait can we please backtrack? The diadem, remember? Did you find it?” Harry, exasperated, tried steering back the conversation. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Obviously we found it.”

“Yeah, that was a great effort for the DA, they were so reluctant -” Ginny began to say, but Hermione took a look at Harry’s expression and cut in. 

“We have no idea what you’re talking about,” she reminded the married pair. “We weren’t there. Maybe start with how Ginny got involved with the diadem search and how it led to Draco changing sides?”

Ginny flushed. “I’m sorry, we jumped ahead of ourselves. I suppose looking back, it was when I was leaving a detention session with the Carrows. Alecto had been angry at me for intervening in class when she decided to use a particularly nasty curse on a student, I forget who -”

“Poppy Caxton,” Draco supplied. At the trio’s quizzical look, he shrugged. “Her cousin was in Slytherin two years below me.”

“Right, Poppy! Anyways, Amycus and Alecto left me in the dungeons….”

“As he tended to do, far too often,” Draco sourly supplied. “I always found Ginny there during my rounds and somehow got coerced into helping her and the resurrected DA out.”

“I never asked for your help, you prat.” Ginny stuck her tongue out at her husband who merely rolled his eyes at her childish antics. Hermione suppressed a laugh.

“I’m assuming the other Slytherins didn’t help?” Harry asked. 

“None of the ones in our year did,” Draco replied. “Some of the younger students perhaps, but if they did I have no idea. They wouldn’t tell me.”

“There were a few, but they were terrified of Draco.” Ginny smirked and pinched his cheek playfully, much to the amusement and bewilderment of the trio. “Little did they know that the big bad Death Eater head boy was just a soft cuddly ferret underneath his mask.”

“I am not cuddly,” Draco complained. “And I refuse to dignify a reply to that ferret comment. Can we get back to the story now?”

“Fine,” Ginny pouted. “But for the record, you are very cuddly.” 

“So, detention with the Carrows,” Ron intervened. He could see that Draco was about to make another retort and had no desire to watch this odd flirtatious exchange between his sister and old school rival. It was far too weird.

“Several weeks went by after the DA got back together, and it wasn’t the first time Draco had found me post-detention.” Ginny clutched his hand, a faraway look in her eyes. “It was a bad one like all the others usually were, but Amycus and Alecto had started to really step up their game.”

“I had, for lack of better judgement, started to help Ginny out when I found her sometime after Halloween. I still think she bewitched me, clever witch that she is, into letting her stay sometimes in my common room when the injuries were especially bad.” Draco rubbed his thumb along the curve of her hand as he spoke in a tantalizing pattern.  
“You just didn’t want to have to make the effort to walk me back to Gryffindor tower,” Ginny scoffed. 

“Yeah, that’s why I did it,” Draco smirked, turning to the trio. “Ginny wasn’t meant to find out about the diadem, but I was careless by letting my… intrigue get the best of me. It was an average nightly patrol sometime before the Christmas break when I found her per usual in the dungeons…”

+

_The Past: Ginny’s Sixth Year_

It was late, well past curfew. All detentions were well over with by the time Draco made his final round around the dungeons. He had already found one of the younger students, a Ravenclaw, collapsed in a corridor not too far from their common room entrance. The girl had made it all the way from the dungeons before fainting. Draco had revived her and assisted her to the door with the obnoxious eagle knocker. 

“Take away the whole and some still remain. What is it?” The eagle had asked.

Draco rolled his eyes, hard. Bloody Ravenclaws and their riddles. 

The girl, despite being injured, stood straighter at the question. “Wholesome,” she told the eagle knocker in a raspy voice.

“Good answer,” it replied, swinging open the door. Draco watched her enter, waving over a Ravenclaw prefect still up at a table near the entrance. The tall boy looked rather surprised to see Draco looking into the common room. 

“Make sure she gets checked out by Padma,” he commanded, ignoring the expression on the prefect’s face, “I know she is capable of healing. The girl needs it.” 

He strode away before the boy could say anything, letting the door shut behind him. Yes, Draco was well aware of his fellow Head student’s healing abilities and her role in the renewed DA. He pretended to not know, of course. He had his own worries to focus on.

The diadem continued to remain elusive. Draco had researched all he could on Rowena Ravenclaw and her tragic story at the library. He had searched the Room of Requirement more than once, each time getting lost in the endless room of junk. 

With Christmas rapidly approaching, he needed to have _something_ to tell the Dark Lord when he got home. Anything to make it appear there was progress and that he hadn’t allowed himself to be increasingly distracted by a particular feisty, definitely not ugly in an annoying way, red-head. Draco had begun to practice Occlumency again, to ensure his mind would be well shielded in the Dark Lord’s presence. 

+

(“My Aunt Bellatrix was useful for something,” Draco told the trio, enjoying the look of surprise on Harry’s face. “I got quite good at Occlumency.”) 

+

Draco reached the dungeon entrance, slightly picking up speed down each cold and twisting corridor. He approached an old room, abandoned and used for storage in years previous. It had been repurposed as a favored spot for the Carrow detentions. The door had been taken off the hinge by one of the Carrow twins, probably Alecto. She delighted in having an audience for her torture sessions. 

Darkness greeted Draco as he poked his head in. It had become customary for him to check the room to ensure no one was left in there. He thought of a first year boy he had come across a few weeks prior, hung upside down on the wall and left unconscious. Unfortunately that was an all too common occurrence nowadays; a Gryffindor who he refused to acknowledge was beginning to stir something deep inside him was a usual guest of the Carrows in the dungeons. Draco grimaced at the memories as he narrowed his eyes, spotting a body slumped over on a table. He had a bad feeling he knew exactly it was.

“Lumos,” he whispered, using his wand as a torch. He went further into the room to investigate. His gut feeling had been correct. He knelt down, heart traitorously thundering in his heart. “Shit, Weasley, are you alright?” 

Ginny was tied to the table with chains. Her hair, which had been neatly plaited back earlier in the day, was a matted mess. A bruise was across her cheeks, gashes on her hands and arms; her robes were tattered where she had been hit with curses.

In the last few weeks it had become an unofficial routine for him to come across her after detentions. Ginny was becoming a distraction from his mission but the thought of a different Slytherin coming across her instead, like Crabbe or Goyle, made Draco anxious.

“Urgh,” she stirred as Draco began to cast healing charms. He had only a short window of time to get her up and out of the dungeon before one of the Carrows to check to see if she was still there, and if she was - he shuddered. They would certainly not heistate for another torture round for her. 

“Come on, Weasley. Get up.”

“It hurts,” she protested as he unlocked the chains with a wave of his wand. They fell to the stone floor with an echoing clank. 

“You need to get moving, you know they’ll be back.”

“I can’t,” she whimpered. 

He sighed. Draco had no desire to continue playing the role of white knight, but he couldn’t just leave her. The hour was late; he wouldn’t chance it that any minute now one of her Gryffindor friends would be rushing down to save her. He made that mistake in the past. 

Gingerly she sat up, fighting back tears. They had really done a number on her this time. He noticed blood stains on her back as she sat up, testing her shoulder. 

“Which one did this?” He asked quietly, offering a hand to assist Ginny as she stood up on wobbly legs. 

“Alecto.” She tested a step, nearly keeling over to the hard floor before Draco caught her. “You know when we ran into each other on the Hogwarts Express I didn’t think you’d be making a habit of catching me,” she joked weakly. Ginny had lost count in the last two months how many times Draco Malfoy had been the one to help her. 

“Neither did I,” Draco admitted. He kept his arm around her waist to support her as they slowly shuffled across the room to the door. A quick look down both corridors ensured they were the only ones currently there.

“I can make it back to my common room,” Ginny said, giving him an out. 

“I don’t doubt you would make a noble effort,” Draco dryly replied, steering her instead towards his Head Boy room. It was located more centrally, closer to the Great Hall than the Slytherin common room. Traditionally Head Boy and Girl would share quarters; that went out the window the moment Snape took over as Headmaster. Instead he had his own private rooms in the upper level above the dungeons.

“Since when did Death Eaters care about the welfare of a blood-traitor?” Ginny bitterly asked, letting him help her up the flagstone steps. They had to move quickly, which proved difficult with her current state.

“The willing ones wouldn’t care,” Draco acknowledged, clamping his mouth shut. He had let slip a crucial piece of information about himself. Luckily Ginny didn’t press him; he hoped in a twisted way the pain she was suffering from would distract her from remembering the comment.

They reached his room; he ushered her directly to the sofa out of view of the fireplace, just in case. 

“Take off your robe,” Draco told her. He could have laughed at her incredulous expression were it not for the fact she was bleeding on his pristine leather sofa. “You’re bleeding,” he informed her. “I can’t help you if you’re still wearing that.” He looked pointedly at her hand-me-down robe. 

“I need help,” she reminded him.

“Oh,” he said, moving cautiously towards her. “Right, yeah.”

Carefully he assisted her in shrugging off the blood stained robes, thrown in a heap on the floor with her blouse. He pointedly looked everywhere but Ginny’s chest area, which was covered with an admittedly very pretty pale blue camisole that was now ruined from her wounds. 

“Muggle clothes are against rule number eight,” Draco teased as a distraction while he examined her shoulder. Disappointingly she didn’t offer a comeback. An angry bruise was blossoming on her left shoulder, but it was the right one where most of the damage was located. It looked like someone had repeatedly slashed her back with a sword in crazy directions; a steady stream of blood poured from a particularly nasty looking one. Alecto had targeted the side she favored during quidditch. 

“Vulnera sanentur,” Draco gently waved his wand over Ginny’s wounds, chanting the same incantation that Professor Snape had once used to heal him after Potter’s stunt in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom the year before. Draco smirked to himself; it was ironic that now he was the one using it to heal Potter’s girlfriend.

He moved on to working on the bruises dotting her pale back like freckles. Lightly he applied it, careful to not add pressure to the tender areas.

“Thanks Malfoy,” she said when he finished up, meeting his eyes. 

“It’s my duty as Head Boy to help even a Weasley,” he dismissively replied without bite, abruptly turning towards her discarded clothes. “You can borrow my shower if you want, and I can get this all,” he waved towards what she was wearing and the pile on the floor, “cleaned up.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows. 

“Or you can go and chance it out in the corridor, I’m sure the Carrows will be around…”

“I’ll shower thanks,” Ginny said, turning towards his private bathroom. This wasn’t the first time they had done this little routine. Besides, the bathroom here was far better than the shared girls dormitory one. Once behind closed doors, and stripped, the hot water of the giant bathtub felt much welcomed on Ginny’s sore body. It made her want to cry how amazing it felt to lean back amongst the bubbles - much to Ginny’s delight and surprise the first time she had found herself in Draco’s bathroom she had discovered his little collection of luxurious bathing supplies, bubbles included. She closed her eyes, trying to shove away the torture session she had experienced with Alecto. Just another day at Hogwarts.

Strangely she felt somewhat safe in the presence of Draco Malfoy; obviously stupid on her part to be willingly near yet another Death Eater, but he seemed different. _Unwilling_ , he had slipped earlier. Ginny frowned, dunking under the water to clear her thoughts. Resurfacing, she gently washed away the dried blood, watching as it turned the perfumed water a faded red. 

Getting out, she dried off and wrapped herself into a black towel that was rather fluffy. She giggled at the ridiculousness of the thought of Draco using such a thing. A plain t-shirt and silk green pajama pants waited for her on the door hook; no use putting back on her dirtied clothes after getting refreshed. 

She was about to open the door to go back out into the common room when the sound of muffled voices outside caught her attention. Ginny froze, clutching her wand. She wished she had on hand a pair of extendable ears to listen in. She leaned against the door, pressing against it to hear better. It didn’t help. She opened the door slightly, just a smidge.

“... not much progress, Father ….” Draco’s voice drifted to her. 

“The Dark Lord is expecting an update, Draco.” A posh, sharp voice rang out from the fireplace. Lucius Malfoy. 

Ginny’s heart pounded. The last time she had seen _him_ in person had been the Ministry. 

“I’ve searched everywhere for it, Father..”

“And yet it remains unfound,” Lucius coolly replied. “Need I remind you what’s on the line if you don’t locate it?”

 _It?_ Ginny strained to hear more. 

“I understand, Father.”

“Good. The Dark Lord was able to find Ravenclaw’s diadem once. It can be found again.”

“I’ll find it, Father.”

“I know you will, son.” Lucius said in a soft tone, so quietly Ginny almost didn’t hear him. “Write to your mother, she misses you. Goodnight.”

The floo call ended. 

“Come out, Weasley.” Draco tiredly turned towards the bathroom door. “I know you heard that.”

Sheepishly she came out into the room, settling into an armchair out of view of the fireplace. 

He looked her over as she did, appreciating how his pajamas looked on her. But that was an unwelcome thought, and he shoved it to the back of mind. 

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I just happened to be done and overheard.”

“The door slipped open on it’s own, I suppose.” He lifted an eyebrow, then sighed. “I can’t tell you anything more than what you heard.” 

“Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem hasn’t been seen in centuries,” Ginny said, thinking it over. “Or so everyone thought. But he found it, didn’t he?”

“Congrats Weasley, your hearing works.” Draco slumped down to the floor, staring up at the ceiling.

“He found it and now wants you to find where he hid it so you’ll purposefully fail,” Ginny summed up, guessing correctly the purpose of Draco’s mission. “It’s a suicide mission.” 

He didn’t answer, instead covering his face with an arm. 

“Draco…” 

“No, Weasley.” He didn’t bother looking at her.

“You don’t know what I was about to say!” Ginny huffed, sitting down on the hard stone floor beside him, ignoring her body’s protest. 

“You said my first name, so already I know it’s going to be some Gryffindor rubbish about trying to help me.”

“Is that so bad?” Ginny hugged a pillow to her chest. 

“Why would you want to help me? I’m a _Death Eater git_ , remember?” Draco bitterly reminded her, rolling over onto his side and looking at her. She shivered as his gray eyes pierced into her hazel ones.  


“The Order can help, we can put you in a safe house and -”

“And then what, he murders my parents?” Draco sat up, staring intensely at the petite redhead in front of him. “Brilliant, sign me up. I always wanted to join Potter’s orphan club.”

“You know I’ve noticed you resort to sarcasm when you feel vulnerable,” Ginny said, staring right back at him. Neither noticed they were slowly inching closer to the other. “You insult Harry and puff up your scrawny chest with that Head Boy badge to hide that you’re just as _scared_ as the rest of us!”

Draco’s jaw tightened at her words. “Not all of us can be brash like Gryffindors. Some of us have to do things we would rather not in order to survive another day.”

“You didn’t have to join them, Draco. Dumbledore wanted to help you, I know he did, Harry said -” 

“Potter knows shit-all,” Draco cut her off. “Say Dumbledore did keep his word to help me. What would have happened to my parents?”

“I’m sure your mum -”

“My mother would never leave my father behind, even if it meant safety.” Draco shook his head. “Believe it or not, Weasley, but my parents do love each other. Shocking concept for an arranged marriage to work out like that, but there you go.”

“I never presumed they didn’t,” Ginny weakly defended herself. She had, in fact, assumed the Malfoys were only bonded by their backwards pureblood ideals.

“Would your mother leave your father behind, even to save herself?” Draco asked her, his face suddenly so much closer than before. Ginny could feel heat radiating off of him. 

“No,” she admitted. “She loves him too much to ever consider it.”

“Well then,” Draco replied, leaning back against the sofa. Ginny found herself missing the warmth. She shivered, hugging herself. Wordlessly he conjured a blanket and tossed it over to her. She caught it effortlessly, wrapping it tightly around her.

They sat in silence for several minutes by the fire. 

“We could help you,” Ginny quietly offered after awhile. She focused on her hands. “One of the Ravenclaws would certainly have an idea about where to look, or even ask the Gray Lady.”

“Why would you want to,” Draco countered. “You could be helping him aid against your precious boyfriend, against your side, if we did manage to find it.”

“Harry’s not my boyfriend,” the words came tumbling out of Ginny’s mouth before she could think it over. “He, well, he wanted to protect me so....” She shrugged. “We broke up.”

Draco looked over at her dubiously. “Protect you?” He rolled his eyes. “No wonder Potter wears glasses. He’s blind if he can’t see that the very last thing you need is _protection_. My aunt raged about you after that encounter at the ministry for _weeks_.”

She offered a hint of a smile at that, then changed the subject. “If you could find this diadem, we could figure out _why_ he wants it.” 

“You think he would tell me that?” Draco sneered. “He doesn’t tell anyone anything unless they’re in his inner circle, and right now my father is clinging to the outer fringe. I’m not allowed in important meetings anyways.”

“But it’s your house,” Ginny pointed out. “Surely in that creepy mansion of yours there’s secret passageways that only your family is aware of?”

Draco shrugged. “I suppose. Some of them haven’t been used in centuries, I’m sure. I don’t think even Father knows all of them.”

“Where do you go during these meetings?” Ginny asked, suddenly energetic. 

“... either tea with Mother in the parlour or I stay in my suite…” Draco warily told her, watching as she leapt up. He winced for her. Even with his half-decent healing skills earlier, there was no way she wasn’t still hurting. 

“We can get you extendable ears! The twins always have them laying around the house, and they’ve got other neat things to eavesdrop that are in development, honestly it’s perfect,” Ginny said, mostly to herself as she twirled a bit of her long red hair. “You could listen in and find out crucial information, and in exchange we could help you out…”

“You want me to spy on the most dangerous wizard in the world?” Draco shook his head. “You’re mad.”

“Think about it Draco,” Ginny plopped down onto the armchair. “We help you find the diadem, surprising You-Know-Who. You can find out _why_ he wants it. This helps the Order get some crucial information, you’re successful at your mission, and if this helps your father out…”

“Then he gets back in the inner circle and you have access to more information?” Draco didn’t like this at all. “Why would I want to risk my bloody neck and further help your side? And besides, he’ll just give me a more impossible mission if I surprise him by not failing. It’s the outcome he doesn’t want. He wants me to fail.”

“You’d help us because you don’t care about You-Know-Who winning,” Ginny confidently replied. She was sure of it. “You just care about your parents. If you help us, and we win,” she took a deep breath and looked directly in Draco’s eyes, “I swear on Merlin that I will testify in your favor if there’s ever a trial. So will my friends, I promise Draco. That,” she looked pointedly where he was unconsciously rubbing his Death Eater tattoo, “won’t be a prison sentence. You can use it for _good_.” 

“No, it’ll be a death sentence. Either by your side or his,” Draco dully replied, thinking it over. “How can you even trust I’ll really tell you anything useful? Or that I can trust you?”

“You help me every single time I have detention,” Ginny said. “You don’t have to do that at all, but I know for a fact you help me and every other struggling student you find after a Carrow session. Just yesterday a third year told me that you lied to one of the Carrows about finding them after curfew, saving them from torture.”

“I’m not a bloody noble person,” Draco told her, crossing his arms. “I don’t have a heart of gold.”

“No,” she agreed. “That’s true. But you do have a heart, even if it's a shade of gray.”

Draco glared at her. 

“Look, if it makes you feel better, I’ll let you think it over. It’s late anyways. If you want to do it, well. You know where to find me. We can even do a spell that will ensure we keep our word. Just think about it.” She yawned, curling up in the armchair with the blanket. 

Draco got up, shuffling towards the bathroom door. “I’m getting ready for bed. You can sleep in the spare room again.”

“Mmkay, Ginny sleepily replied. “Goodnight Draco.”

He didn’t reply.

+

_Present Day, The Farmhouse_

“We started searching a few days later,” Ginny told the trio. “It wasn’t until after the holiday break that we made any headway, though.” She frowned.  


“It wasn’t a very pleasant Christmas,” Draco gruffly acknowledged. His tone suggested that he would not indulge them in the details. They didn’t need to know that he spent Christmas morning writhing in pain under an Unforgivable curse at the hands of his aunt. 

“How did the DA initially react to the plan,” Hermione gently asked. She could imagine it would have taken some convincing to get them to go with it. 

“Well, Neville -” Ginny started, but a popping sound cut her off. Lira appeared, anxiously twisting her apron. 

“Pardon my interruption,” the little house elf began. “Mistress Cressida is crying with a temperature, and is requesting Master…”

“I’ll tend to her,” Draco abruptly stood up. “Excuse me,” he nodded to the trio, hastily exiting the drawing room. 

Lira disappeared with a pop, heading back to the nursery to await Draco. 

“Who’s Cressida?” Ron asked, a little frown on his face. Their hectic schedule made it hard to keep track of all the faces in the Farmhouse. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “ _Your niece._ ”

“Fleur and Bill’s daughter isn’t named Cressida, is it? I thought it was Victoire?”

“Honestly Ronald,” Hermione scoffed in disbelief. “Cressida, your sister’s daughter? You know the one you played with just yesterday at breakfast?” 

“The cute little blonde one with the pigtails?” Ron asked, surprised. “That’s not one of Bill and Fleur’s?”

“She’s strawberry blonde,” Harry said. Everyone looked at him. He shrugged. “It shows in a certain light.”

“Yes, thank you Harry. I’ve been telling Draco since she was born that the Weasley gene would dominate the Malfoy blonde.” Ginny smiled triumphantly. 

“How did I miss that you have a daughter?” Ron asked, confused. “Wait a minute, you’re only 20 and she’s -”

“I’ll tell you later about all of that,” Ginny said, standing to go upstairs. 

Ron made a face. “I bloody hope you don’t, it’s bad enough you’re married to Malfoy.” He shuddered, looking rather disturbed. “Ugh, bloody hell.”

“ _Pleasant dreams Ronald_ ,” Ginny smirked, reminding him far too much of Draco. With a wave, she was gone. 

“Did you know they had a daughter?” Ron demanded, looking to Harry. The other wizard tiredly nodded. 

“Yeah mate, it was a bit obvious once I got over the shock of Ginny’s marriage to Malfoy. They’re always with her.”

“I thought she was Fleur and Bill’s, Fleur is always with the children…” Ron trailed off, puzzled.

“Oh Ron,” Hermione shook her head. She got up, yawning herself. “Right, bed. Early start again tomorrow.”

“It’s always an early start these days,” Ron grumbled, following her out the room. “Can we schedule a morning of sleep?” 

“Wishful thinking,” Hermione replied. “Wishful thinking.”

They headed off to bed, each already looking forward to stealing a few moments for a nap the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will find out more about Cressida Malfoy in an update soon! Any guesses for when she was born and what her middle name might be? Feel free to share your thoughts :) Thank you for reading, as always. Any odd grammar or spelling mistakes will be fixed when I go back and edit more carefully.

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter will be in the same present day as this chapter, and then we will jump back to learn about how these two got together. Please leave me a review! They literally make me so happy, and I appreciate them all.


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